Lies and Consequences
by 554Laura
Summary: A multi chapter AU story set during season 6. Most of the events after Booth's proposal to Hannah do not occur. Story summary: A chance meeting between between Booth and Brennan after several months of separation leads to a revelation about what really happened to drive them apart. Will they be able to work things out to be together again?
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's note: this story takes place over a period of several weeks. Since it's 'Bones time' however, the time frame of the chapters may be stretched or compressed depending on the chapter. It begins about seven months after Booth proposed to Hannah._**

 ** _I've made an effort to write this story as realistic fiction, but it is a work of fiction, so I may have taken some liberties with reality to serve the purpose of the story._**

 _ **Please be reminded that this story is AU, so things may not exactly follow the time line of the show.**_

* * *

Temperance Brennan shivered as she stood in line at the coffee cart in the park, zipping her lightweight jacket closed against the chill in the autumnal air. The brisk, sunny Saturday morning had been perfect for her run, but she was cold now, and she'd decided a hot cup of coffee might the perfect thing to help her warm up again. She wasn't really in a hurry to go home to her empty apartment anyway. She nodded her thanks to the proprietor and stepped away from the line, blowing softly on the coffee to cool it slightly before taking a sip. She wrinkled her nose at the bitter liquid, stirring in a packet of sugar as she walked slowly back to the lot where her car was parked. It was a beautiful day, considering it was the middle of November, with the clear blue sky offering a sharp contrast to the oranges and yellows of the trees, and normally she'd want to linger in the park to enjoy the changing foliage. This morning, however, she had little interest in her brightly colored surroundings. She needed to get back home to work on her book. Lost in thought, she was almost to her car when she heard the familiar voice behind her.

"Bones! Hey, Bones, wait up!" Brennan grimaced slightly in frustration before she stopped and turned toward the voice. Booth waved to get her attention as he came jogging up to her. "How are you? Jesus, I haven't seen you in practically forever!" He grinned broadly, clearly happy to see her. "God, you look great! I'm so glad I ran into you this morning. I've been thinking about you a lot lately, you know? I was gonna call to see how you were doing, but I've been busy...and now here you are. That's an amazing coincidence, isn't it? How are you, anyway?"

"Hello, Booth." Brennan rolled her eyes at her former partner's aggravating tendency toward childish hyperbole as she pushed loose tendrils of hair away from her face and smoothed her ponytail. "I'm fine. However, I'm fairly certain I don't look 'great', since I've just been for a long run, which has caused me to become flushed and to perspire profusely, and of course, it hasn't actually been forever since you've seen me. You know that's impossible. It's only been seven months since you last spoke to me." She paused as she stirred her coffee again, continuing in the precise, no nonsense tone she normally saved for correcting an intern who'd made an extremely silly mistake. "That's not really a long time...it's not even a full year. It's been almost exactly the same amount of time that we spent apart when I went to the Malukus and you went to Afghanistan. Approximately 225 days... " Squaring her shoulders, she glared sternly at him. "Definitely not forever." She took a sip of her coffee as she silently dared him to argue with her.

His self confidence flagging under her withering gaze, Booth hesitated before continuing softly. "Well, it seems like forever to me. I've missed you...a lot...no matter how long it's been." He shrugged sadly, slumping a bit as he tried to avoid looking into her piercing blue eyes. "Just so you know, I hate it when I have to go by the lab for some reason and you're not there. Work just isn't the same now. I don't work with a regular partner anymore, and I miss talking to you about our cases. Seeing your office empty makes me feel like something's just not right in the world. It's like things are off somehow, you know? Like there's something missing from my day." Booth tried to shake off his sadness, smiling at Brennan as he sought to catch up with what was going on in her life. "Are you doing okay? How's the new book coming along? What are you going to call it? I can't wait to read it."

Slightly irritated at Booth's onslaught of questions, Brennan gave him an annoyed glance. "The working title of my new novel is _Bag of Bones,_ but you may have to wait awhile longer to read it. I've had to rework the basic premise of the story, and because I'm introducing a new character, I have to find a way to fit him into the existing framework of characters. As I'm sure you are aware, the now disgraced Andy Lister is being replaced by Kathy Reichs' new partner, Jim Baines. For some reason, however, that's been a difficult transition for me to write into the story. I've had to do several corrections and edits on the manuscript, and the publishing date has been pushed back until after the first of next year." Brennan took another sip of her coffee and watched as some joggers ran by, trying to avoid eye contact with Booth. "I was disappointed in my apparent failure to finish my manuscript on time, but my editor assures me it's all part of the creative process, and I shouldn't worry too much about it as long as I finish it by the end of this year so the book can be published in late January or early February. They're excited by the new character I'm adding to the series. My editor said it will breathe new life into the Kathy Reichs series."

"Yeah...maybe.", Booth agreed in an unconvincing tone. "I guess your publisher would know more about stuff like that than me. Personally, I'm gonna miss reading about Kathy and Andy solving crimes together, but I'm sure you'll work it all out in your book, just like you always do. That's why you're a bestselling author, right?"

"I suppose so." Brennan nodded slightly as she fidgeted with the lid of her coffee cup. After a long awkward pause bracketed by meaningless small talk, she cleared her throat, and asked the question she'd been dreading. "How's Hannah?"

"Fine...she's fine.", he stammered softly. "I, um...we've been doing fine, you know? Same old stuff...just like always." It was obvious that Booth was uncomfortable with the question as he shifted from one foot to another, struggling with his emotions as he sought to prolong this chance encounter with his former partner. He reached out to gently touch her arm. "Listen, Bones, can you go with me to get something for breakfast, maybe at the diner? I need to talk to you about something. It's important..."

She shook her head as she pulled her arm away from him and threw her empty coffee cup in a nearby trash can. "No...I can't today, Booth. I need to go home so I can work on my book this afternoon. I have a chapter deadline approaching, and I don't want to disappoint my editor again. I've enjoyed talking to you. Tell Hannah I said hello." Brennan quickly turned away and briskly walked toward her car.

"Bones...just a minute...hey, wait…please...I need to talk to you. Please?" Booth tried to urge Brennan to stay, reaching out to take her hand again, but she ignored his pleas, pulling away from him as if she had been burned by his touch. She quickly got into her car and pulled out of her parking space as he stood and sadly watched her drive away.

Oooooooooo

Staring at her blank computer screen later that day, Brennan sat in her quiet apartment, hoping for even the tiniest spark of inspiration as she tried to start the next chapter of her new book. She realized that every author suffered from writer's block from time to time, but she seemed to have an extreme case at this moment. Sighing, she thought again about the conversation with her editor that had created this annoying problem.

*/*/*/*/*

 _Brennan pushed her tea cup away as she explained her new plan for the series. "I'd like to change Kathy Reichs' partner in the next story, Karen. I think the character of Andy Lister has run his course. I'm planning to kill him off in my next novel, and then I'm going to introduce a new partner for Kathy."_

 _Karen Howell, Brennan's editor, was aghast. Leaning over the table, she tried to convince her protege' to change her mind. "You can't just kill Andy Lister in the next book for no good reason, Temperance! Your readers will be horrified with that move, and they'll stop buying your books! Do you have any idea how invested your readers are in the possibility of a romantic relationship between Kathy and Andy?"_

 _Shrugging, Brennan gazed out the window of the cafe. "I don't care about that. I write mystery novels, not love stories. The relationship between the partners who are trying to solve the crime should be secondary to the case. Romantic relationships are not why I write the books, Karen." Brennan was ready to pull her hair out in frustration. Why was everybody so convinced that her books were love stories? And why would anyone be so wrapped up in a love story, anyway? Based on her own personal experience, Brennan knew there was no such thing as 'happily ever after'..._

 _Karen tapped the table with her fingernails to get Brennan's attention. "Well, you should care, because it's that 'will they/won't they' romance you've got going on between those two characters that sells your books. Having a good mystery certainly helps, but, whether you like it or not, people read your books for the relationships you've developed between your characters, especially Andy and Kathy. However, I can understand why you might want to change things up a bit to keep from being bored with writing the series. How about something like this instead? Maybe you can have Andy get in trouble with the law somehow? Not by murdering someone, but maybe something where he can no longer be apart of the team? Or maybe he's demoted? Perhaps you can have him take a job on the other side of the world. Just don't do something to permanently end his run in your books. That way if you want to bring him back for some reason you can…"_

 _*/*/*/*/*_

Brennan slowly shook her head and sighed. It would've been so much easier if she could just write Andy Lister out of her stories completely She couldn't imagine any reason she might want to bring Andy Lister back into her books after she eliminated the character. However, Karen had helped her with excellent suggestions about her books several times in the past, so Brennan decided that Karen's suggestion this time was an acceptable compromise. Andy Lister would be charged with stealing illegal drugs from the FBI's evidence storeroom in the first chapter of the story, and the rest of the book would focus on Kathy Reichs' new partnership with Jim Baines and their fruitless efforts to prove Andy's innocence.

Brennan got up to fix herself a grilled vegetable sandwich for lunch, thinking about what had happened earlier in the day. Seeing Booth in the park this morning had been most unsettling for her. Even though she'd ended their work partnership seven months ago, she still thought about him every day, wondering what sort of case he was working on, and hoping he was alright as he faced down dangerous criminals. It had been hard to entrust her partner's well being to someone else, but Hannah loved him, right? _I imagine Hannah makes sure Booth has a well balanced diet, and she reminds him to take care of his back. I'm sure she probably reminds him to be careful at work, too._ It seemed Hannah was a 'wonderful life partner' for Booth. Brennan knew it must be true because everybody had said so. Hannah was beautiful, smart, successful, and assertive, and she also had a bubbly personality that most men would find irresistible. _Hannah is everything Booth has ever wanted in a woman._ Brennan had to admit to herself that Booth seemed like he'd been very happy and quite successful at work since they were no longer partners. Of course he'd tell her that he missed her. Brennan knew he'd always say something along those lines. It was just his way of being friendly...joking around like that. It was all part of that sort of impersonal courtesy former co-workers used when they saw each other occasionally, and she was certain that he wasn't being literal. No matter what amount of affection she still might feel for Booth, she'd decided that their work relationship and personal relationship would not be resumed if for some reason she chose to return to her position with the Jeffersonian at the end of her sabbatical. It was too painful for her to watch Booth be happy in a romantic relationship with Hannah. It was much easier to avoid contact with him all together. Sighing to herself as she recalled the last few months of working together with Booth, she decided that she'd made the right decision when she'd ended their partnership. She'd always known that she'd live a solitary life, and the situation with him had done nothing to convince her otherwise.

Picking at her sandwich, Brennan decided she wasn't really that hungry after all. As she got up to wrap the sandwich for later, the doorbell rang. Checking the peephole, she grumbled slightly as she opened the front door and, hands on hips, she challenged her visitor angrily. "Booth, what are you doing here? I told you earlier today that I need to work on my book this afternoon. I don't have time for company. You can't come in right now."

Undeterred by Brennan's less than welcoming attitude, Booth brusquely pushed through her front door, ignoring her frustrated groan as he barged into the apartment uninvited. "I'm sorry, but…" He paused and turned to glare at Brennan before launching into an angry tirade, jabbing his finger at her as he scolded her. "Actually, you know what? I'm not really sorry...not one goddamn bit. I need to talk to you right now, Bones, so no more shutting me out, okay? No more running away from me for no good reason. I have to tell you what's going on in my life right now, and I have to do it today. You can spare me a few minutes of your time, and then I'll leave you alone for good, alright? I'll never bother you again, if that's what you want. We were partners for five and a half years, Bones. I think you can give me ten minutes of your precious book writing time."

Throwing her hands up in frustration, she scolded him severely. "I'm very busy, Booth…I really don't have time. Go away and leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you. We have nothing to say to each other." Brennan started to turn away from him so she could sit on her sofa, but he grabbed her hand and held it tightly.

"Bones, please….I need to talk to you today. I need your help with something. Please...just listen for a few minutes. I promise, it won't take long, and then I'll leave you alone."

"I'm busy…" She paused as she heard the desperate tone in his voice, and then she realized something was terribly wrong. "I don't understand, Booth. What's so important that you have to tell me today? What's the emergency? Is Parker okay? Is it something to do with one of your cases? If it's about a case, I don't want to know. I'm on a sabbatical. I'm trying to avoid everything that's work related…" Trying to pull her hand away, she bit her lip and averted her eyes from him. "...even you. I don't want to get involved with any of your criminal cases right now..." She sighed quietly. "I know that we're still friends, and I want to be supportive, but I have things to do. I can't help you solve a murder. I can't afford to take the time away from my book right now…"

"it isn't a case." He inhaled sharply as he silently shook his head. "It's nothing like that." He held her hand tightly, shaking with emotion as he tried to maintain his composure. Finally he choked out a teary whisper. "Look, I'm sorry to crash your sabbatical, Bones, but what I need to tell you can't wait. I'm leaving the country in a few days to take care of a project for the Army, and I'm not sure when, or even if, I'm coming back. I couldn't leave without telling you goodbye. We were friends for too long for me to treat you like that...to just disappear without you knowing what had happened to me. There are things I want you to know…"

"Booth…", Brennan groaned sadly, collapsing on the sofa as she realized what he was going to do while he was out of the country. "You said you wouldn't take on this type of assignment any more. You said you were finished with this sort of thing. It's far too dangerous, even with your expertise. You might get yourself killed." Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him. "Where are you going this time?"

"You know I can't tell you anything about that, Bones. This is a covert mission...black ops...off the record." He sat next to her, focusing on the coffee table in front of him. "The Army has asked me to perform a little chore for them. I've done this sort of thing before, you know? Remember when we were working on that case where the man's body parts was found in the bear? I told you about my job in Guatemala, right?"

Brennan nodded slightly as she chewed her lip nervously. "You said that you'd been sent there to do a job, and that you'd shot a man through the heart from a very long distance away." It was hard for her to reconcile that the man she loved so dearly could be such a deadly sniper. "I don't understand why it has to be you, however. Surely the Army can find someone else to do this job."

"Well, I'm kind of like a reservist, okay? It's different for me than for a regular reservist, though. I don't have to show up every six months for training or anything like that. It's more like I'm assigned to a sort of 'on call' basis, in case the Army needs me to take out a special target. If they need something special done, something that needs my 'unique skill set', they know they can have me do it, although they haven't used me in a long time, which is just fine, as far as I'm concerned. It's not like I miss going to some place halfway across the world to take a shot at someone." He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "But this time...well, let's just say it's a personal matter for me, so I agreed to take care of it for them. I need to go and do this thing." Booth turned to Brennan and reached over to gently brush a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "The plan is that they send me in, I find the target, take it out, and then I leave." He chuckled mirthlessly. "The leaving is the tricky part...making the rendezvous with the good guys before I get caught by the guys who live there."

"I can't believe Hannah is okay with you taking this assignment, Booth." Brennan shook her head as she thought of how Booth's girlfriend would react to this news. "She must be terrified at the thought that she might lose you."

"Hannah doesn't know." Booth sighed heavily. "We broke up, Bones. She moved back to London two months ago." He clenched his fists as he tried to control his emotions. "She said she didn't want to marry me after all...that she had gotten a better offer."

Eying Booth suspiciously, Brennan's brow furrowed as she tried to understand what he was saying. "Really? This morning you told me she was fine. Why were you lying to me? What happened? Was she offered a better job?" Brennan studied Booth carefully. "Does her leaving have anything to do with you accepting your covert mission? Are you really upset enough to put yourself in danger in order to get over your failed relationship? Are you trying to commit suicide? Doesn't that go against your religious beliefs?"

"Of course I'm not trying to commit suicide! You know me better than that, Bones." Booth exhaled slowly, trying to remain calm as he felt the surge of emotions swirling within him. "I accepted this mission because I really need to take out the target. It has nothing to do with Hannah. I'm not trying to get myself killed because she left me. I'm not some stupid lovesick kid, you know? My country needed me, and at the time I accepted the mission, I was ready for a change of scenery, okay? I thought maybe it'd be better for me to get out of town for awhile so I could forget the shitstorm that is my life. Anyway, I wouldn't have taken on this project if I didn't think I had a very good chance to be successful, especially with Parker to think about. I would never leave him fatherless on purpose...you know that." Booth sighed and shrugged a shoulder. "And anyway, Hannah _is_ fine, as far as I know. She said it was a good career move for her to take the new job in London, but there was probably another guy in the mix, too...one of her producers, I think. She wanted to keep her options open, you know?" Booth sat back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. "Funny thing is, I think deep down I always knew she'd never be able to commit to me like I wanted her to, but I kept trying to hang on to her for some reason. I mean, I know I loved her, but I guess it wasn't the life changing kind of love like I want from a relationship with someone. Maybe I wanted to hang on to her so much because I was afraid of being alone for the rest of my life. But it seemed like our relationship had run its course, and we both knew it. In some ways it really was a relief when she left me, and now I'm moving on with my life. I'm finally okay with how things turned out between us. I guess the whole thing with Hannah was a big fuck up from the very beginning..." Rubbing his eyes, he shook his head and sighed. "I've just about ruined my life, Bones…."

Brennan reached over to pat Booth's hand. "I wish you had called me to let me know that she'd left, Booth.", Brennan began. "It must've been a difficult time for you, with an intense romantic relationship ending like that. Perhaps, as your friend, I could've lent you some moral support."

He rolled his eyes and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I thought about doing that very thing, but I didn't want to interfere with your 'wonderful' sabbatical by telling you about my little problems in the romance department. You made it very clear from the beginning that you wouldn't have time to talk to me about anything going on in my life...that you'd be much too busy with whatever the hell it was that you were going to do during your year off." Booth's voice was thick with anger and bitterness as he pulled his hand away. "You know, it's bad enough that I didn't have my regular work partner available to me for a year, but to just drop our friendship completely because of your year long vacation really hurts, Bones. Even you should know that friends don't treat each other that way."

Stung by his heated tone of voice, Brennan's voice rose in anger. "You have no right to be upset with me, Booth. After all, I was just doing what you asked of me. I decided to let you have the year of peace you wanted, and I made arrangements to stay out of your way so you could concentrate on your relationship with Hannah." Brennan pinched her lips together so she could keep her emotions in check. "Hannah told me you needed some time away from our work partnership to focus on other things in your life, but that you were too embarrassed to tell me yourself because you were afraid you'd hurt my feelings. She said she had no doubt that I'd agree to give you some time off from our partnership and our friendship if I knew that was what you truly wanted, especially since the two of us were such good friends. Since your girlfriend said that was what you wanted from me, it seemed logical to take my sabbatical at the time, although I wish you had told me yourself instead of having Hannah tell me." She blinked back her tears as she continued. "Dr. Moseman had already committed to being at the Jeffersonian on a professorial exchange assignment from the University of Haifa for a year, so he could easily oversee the interns' lab work while I was gone…" Brennan saw the color drain from Booth's face as he gasped in shock. "Booth...what's wrong?"

"Wait a minute…you mean...seriously? Oh, my God..." He closed his eyes as he realized what had happened. "Hannah told me that you had asked Dr. Moseman to come for an exchange year at the Jeffersonian so you could take some time off from working together with me...that it was your idea to take a sabbatical because you needed some time away from the emotional stress of working on murder cases all the time. She said you also needed a break from spending time with me, since our friendship was becoming difficult to handle. She told me that you couldn't figure out how to tell me without hurting my feelings, since you're supposedly no good with people, so she'd volunteered to help you by telling me herself instead." He saw the stricken look on Brennan's face. "Bones…that bitch lied to me, didn't she? It wasn't really your idea to take off a year to avoid me, was it? Goddammit! She screwed with our lives, Bones, and then she left us to suffer from the consequences of her actions. God, for her sake, I hope I never see her again…"

"So it wasn't your idea that I should leave you completely alone, was it, Booth? Hannah concocted the story on her own, without your permission. She manipulated both of us into ending our partnership..." Brennan felt a tear run down her cheek. "She lied to both of us…"

"Yeah, that's exactly what she did." Seeing the doubt still evident on Brennan's face, Booth pleaded with her, begging her to understand what he was saying. "You gotta believe me, Bones. I had nothing to do with this. After all those years of working together, you should know I would never do that to you...that I could never be that cold hearted toward you. You know, Hannah was correct when she said I wouldn't want to hurt you. I care too much about you to do something like that. You believe me, don't you? C'mon...you know I care too much about you to act like that, right?"

"Yes, I believe you, Booth." Brennan sighed heavily, leaning against his shoulder as he put his arm around her. "So the question is...what do we do now?"

* * *

 ** _More to come soon. If you have a chance to review, I'd appreciate it. Laura._**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thanks for the kind reviews. They are appreciated. I've enjoyed writing this story, and I'm looking forward to sharing it with you.**_

 _ **Like in real life, time sometimes goes by slowly and at other times it seems to rush by. This chapter takes place on the same day as the previous chapter. Booth and Brennan still have some things to discuss...**_

* * *

"What do we do now?" Brennan looked up at Booth with tears in her eyes. "I missed spending seven months as your partner and as your friend because Hannah told both of us lies, and now you're leaving on a dangerous covert mission in a few days." She brushed away a tear as he put his arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm gently. "I'm so angry at Hannah for doing this to us! I know that's not rational, but I can't help it! I feel like if I saw her again I would injure her severely."

Booth nodded as he smiled in spite of himself. He knew it was wrong, but he was secretly pleased that his Bones was so angry about the horrible situation Hannah had created with her lies. _Maybe Bones still cares about me a little…_ He laughed to himself as he patted her shoulder. "You don't have to be rational when you're angry at someone, Bones. I'm angry, too. It makes me really mad that Hannah basically robbed me of with spending all that time with you. I guess she was jealous of our relationship..."

"Why would Hannah be jealous over our relationship with each other, Booth? We never gave her any reason to think that we were any more than work partners. I can't imagine why she would do this to us!" Brennan's eyes were blazing as she turned to Booth. "Was she just being spiteful? This seems like a well calculated plan to injure both of us…"

He hesitated slightly before he answered Brennan. He felt certain he knew why Hannah would think he and Bones were so much more than work partners. There had been a time when he'd thought he'd done a good job of making sure that he'd kept any lingering feelings he might've had for his partner hidden from his girlfriend, but he remembered the morning that Hannah had been so upset with him because he'd been talking about Bones in his sleep. Goddammit! His own dreams had betrayed his secret: that he'd never really gotten past his disappointment over his failure to convince Bones to enter into a romantic relationship with him. Hannah must've figured out that he was having some very erotic dreams about his work partner, and because she'd suspected that there was still a deep attachment between her boyfriend and his beautiful Bones, Hannah had been jealous enough to try to permanently end the relationship between the two of them by whatever means she had at her disposal.

However, as much as he wanted to explain everything to Brennan, he knew that this exact moment was not the right time for that sort of disclosure. If she knew what had really caused Hannah's suspicions, especially the part about the erotic dreams, it would only serve to complicate matters between them. He couldn't afford to back Bones into a corner this time. She was probably still skittish about romantic relationships, so he had to be more cautious with her feelings now than he'd been that night in front of the Hoover. He'd explain it all to her eventually, but not at this exact moment…things were still too awkward between them.

Embarrassed, he cleared his throat nervously as he tried to answer Brennan's questions. "I think maybe it bothered her because she never felt like we were including her in our friendship. We were probably doing that 'what's ours is ours' thing about a case or something, and maybe it made her jealous. Who knows? In the long run, though, it doesn't really matter what Hannah was trying to accomplish with her lying, does it? It's done now, and we can't go back and change it. We just have to deal with it and go on, right?" Booth shrugged sadly as Brennan reluctantly nodded in agreement. "I tell you what...let's not worry about it anymore. Let's just forget about her and spend the afternoon together, just hanging out, talking to each other...catching up on what we've both been doing the past seven months and stuff like that...you know, enjoying each other's company. Maybe we can order some Thai for dinner…" He hesitated slightly before continuing. "I mean, I'd like to do that, unless I'm keeping you from working on your book. I know you have a deadline to meet."

"I'd welcome the distraction, Booth. I haven't been able to get very far on the next chapter, anyway. I seem to have a terrible case of writer's block." Brennan rose from the couch and picked up her laptop from the kitchen counter. "It's hard to introduce a new character into the cast when the old characters are so comfortable with each other. It causes lots of problems for everyone involved..."

Suddenly it occurred to Booth what she meant. "You mean like when I introduced Hannah into our mix? We were comfortable with each other, and then she shook everything up…"

Brennan sighed sadly as she carried her computer over to the sofa and sat next to Booth. "I don't even know if we were completely comfortable with each other before Hannah was here." She chewed the inside of her cheek as she continued softly. "I'm not sure I knew where I stood with you...you know, since…"

"Yeah." He nodded slowly as his expression grew pensive. "Since I asked you to take a chance on us, and you said you couldn't, because you thought you couldn't change. I've since realized how wrong I was to approach things the way I did, and I'm sorry I put you in that uncomfortable position, Bones. It was a stupid thing for me to do. I know now that I shouldn't have rushed you into making a decision about something so important, like I did that night. I should've known you'd need time to think things through, but I was desperate, I guess." He sighed sadly at the memory of that evening. "I so was afraid I was going to lose you, and then it seemed like because I forced the issue I lost you anyway. I didn't want you to feel like you had to change for me, okay? I don't ever want you to change. I love you just the way you are, and I should've told you that, too, that evening, but I just royally fucked up everything instead. I really handled the situation badly, and then things were really weird for both of us after that, weren't they? I dated Catherine for a little while, and you dated Hacker. Then we both left the country, and I came back home and brought Hannah with me..."

Brennan's heart leapt in her chest as she caught Booth's apparent slip of the tongue. _He used present tense. He said he loves me just like I am..._ Overwhelmed with emotion, she kept her eyes focused on her closed computer as she spoke softly. "I dated Andrew for a few months, but it seemed I was always comparing him to you, Booth, which put him at a great disadvantage. It appears that you're always going to be my standard, and no one else will ever compare favorably to you. I tried dating a few other men after I ended things with Andrew, but none of those men made me as happy as I was when I was with you, even though we were just friends and not romantically involved." She turned to face him as he sat next to her on the sofa. "And now that I've finally realized that you are my romantic standard, Booth, you're leaving me again…" She brushed another tear from her face as she stared at her computer. "Maybe I'm one of those people who aren't supposed to be in a romantic relationship. Maybe I'm supposed to be alone forever…"

"I don't believe that for a second. I'm not gonna let that happen. I won't let you be alone if you don't want to be..." He gently rubbed circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. "Look, Bones...I'm sorry that I have to go away for a few weeks and take care of this project, but even if things had occurred differently between us, I'd still feel like I needed to do it. This target is a terrible human being. He's a merciless killer, and he's destroyed the lives of hundreds of people...people whose only crime was to be in the wrong village at the wrong time. If I can take him out, it may prevent more bloodshed and save innocent lives." Booth exhaled slowly before continuing. "I can't tell you anything more about the project. I've probably told you too much already. Anyway…" He paused as he put his arm around Brennan again, giving her what he hoped was a guy hug as he pointed toward her laptop. "...that's not what I want to talk about tonight. I want to talk about happier things, okay? Tell me more about your new book. So Agent Andy's got himself into some big trouble, right?"

She nodded as she fidgeted with her computer mouse. "Yes. He's been arrested and is presently in jail awaiting trial. He stands accused of stealing a large quantity of cocaine that was seized during a drug bust. The evidence seems to show that he took it from of the evidence locker so he could sell it on the street. Kathy and her new partner Jim Baines are trying to determine what really happened, because they have a hard time believing that the Agent Andy they know would do such a stupid thing." Brennan opened her computer and accessed the file containing her book. "I can write what Kathy is feeling about the situation with Andy very easily, but I'm having trouble with the Jim Baines character…"

Sitting back on the sofa, Booth thought for a few minutes. "So what's Baines' motivation? Is he really on Andy's side? Is he neutral, or is he trying to pin this crime on Andy to cover his own guilt?"

"That's what I can't decide. The two characters have just started working together, and Kathy doesn't like Jim very much, but she needs his help to prove Andy's innocence…" Brennan sighed. "I almost never have this much trouble creating a new character, but this time it's different. It's been quite challenging for me, and I find that I'm very annoyed with the whole process. I wish I could scrap this project altogether, but I've already received an advance for it, and the publishing company is in the process of designing the cover and arranging the publicity tours. I have to finish this book."

"You know what I think?" Booth smiled sadly at Brennan as she typed a few words on a page. "I think maybe now you're sorry for trying to give Andy the old heave-ho." He reached over and rubbed her shoulder tenderly as he spoke softly. "Were you really so angry at me that you'd planned to kill off the Andy character?"

She shrugged his hand away, avoiding eye contact with him. "Yes, I was. It hurt so much when I felt like you had abandoned our partnership...and me…and I wanted to eliminate all of the parts of the past few years that reminded me of you. I thought it would be easier to move on with my life that way."

"But I told you that I'd never abandon you, Bones." Booth put his knuckle under her chin and tilted her face so he look into her eyes, and felt his heart breaking when he saw the tears clinging to her lashes. "I know now the way it felt for you, like you'd been abandoned again, but I really did want to keep our partnership intact. When Hannah told me that you didn't want to work with me anymore, I was devastated. I just couldn't believe it, and now it turns out I shouldn't have taken her word for it. I should've talked to you about this situation face to face, you know? I should've tried to work it out...to find out the truth for myself. I should've fought harder to keep our relationship intact, but I was hurt, too. I really believed what Hannah told me about you. I trusted her. I had no reason to think she was lying to me...and I thought I was giving you what you wanted. I guess I screwed that up royally, too, huh? I'm so sorry…"

"It wasn't solely your fault, Booth. I also contributed to the fracturing of our partnership." Brennan pulled away from Booth and brushed away a tear. "I wish I had been strong enough to take a chance on a relationship with you that night at the Hoover, but I knew I'd only end up disappointing you. I'm really not very good at maintaining relationships. In reality, however, Hannah was the person who lied, and so she was responsible for a large part of our misery over the last seven months. Our real mistake was in trusting her instead of trusting each other."

Booth reached over to take Brennan's hand. "You're never gonna disappoint me, Bones, no matter what you think. When I come home from my little trip, we're gonna start our relationship over, okay? And we're work on getting things right this time. I'm not gonna let anyone or anything take you away from me now, alright?"

"I'd like that...to start over." Brennan sniffled a bit as she studied her keyboard, pausing before she spoke again. "I'm not sure we'll be successful at having a relationship, but things can't possibly be any worse than they were these past seven months…"

"That's true." Trying to brighten her mood, Booth glanced at Brennan's computer monitor, anxious to change the subject. "Hey, I have a crazy idea for your book. Maybe this Jim Baines fella can kinda be like Sully, only in a bad way. Maybe he's got the hots for Kathy Reichs, and he's trying to frame Andy so he can push Andy out of the way for good and then fix it so he can work with Kathy full time, with the idea of it eventually moving into a sexual relationship with her."

Brennan's eyes lit up with excitement as she thought about Booth's suggestion. "So that would be the twist at the end? That Baines was the villain all the time, and he was trying to get rid of Andy by framing him for the crime? That's an excellent idea, Booth. There are a lot of different avenues I can take with that thought. In fact, that's such a good idea that maybe I should list you as my collaborator on this book."

Booth chuckled as he gave Brennan a dimpled grin. "Nah, you don't have to do that. I'd never hear the end of it from the guys at work, you know? Maybe just mention me in the dedication." His grin slowly faded as his expression grew serious again. He moved to sit on the edge of the sofa, drumming his fingers nervously on the coffee table. He turned to see her watching him intently, and sighed softly before he continued. _This is gonna be hard to say..._

"Listen, I want to talk to you about something important. Remember? I said I needed your help? That's why I came over this afternoon in the first place." She nodded for him to continue. "I need to tell you a few details about my paperwork for the Army, Bones. I've listed you as someone the Army should contact in case I'm not successful and I can't come home…" He saw her frightened shudder and tried to reassure her once again, trying to smile as he patted her knee. "Not that I think that anything bad is gonna happen, but just in case...you know, I'm making what they call contingency plans. Anyway, I was wondering…" He swallowed hard and picked at his thumbnail nervously before he continued. "I'd like to change things to make you the executor of my will and trustee of my estate, if it's okay with you. Pops is listed as my executor now, but I think he's too old to take on that much stress, you know? I need to make sure Parker gets my survivors' benefits and everything else that's coming to him from my estate. It's supposed to go to him in his name instead of in Rebecca's name…it's gonna be set up as a trust for him for when he's older, and I guess you'd have to be willing to take care of that until he's the right age to get it." Pausing as he closed his eyes and leaned back into the sofa, he spoke softly. "I know it's not something you want to think about, but it'd give me so much peace of mind if you could find it in your heart to help me with this. I trust you more than almost anyone I know, Bones…"

Moving to sit closer to him, Brennan took his hand in hers, struggling to maintain her composure as she answered him. "Of course I would do that for you, Booth. I'd be honored to help you and Parker if it ever becomes necessary to do so. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Trying to lighten the mood, he chuckled as he entwined his fingers with hers. "You mean besides ordering dinner? Yeah, there's one other thing. Can you come see me off on Wednesday? My flight's scheduled to leave for Atlanta at 2 pm from Reagan. I'd appreciate it if you'd come wait with me. They'll have a lounge set up for families of military personnel, I think...that's what command told me, anyway. I'd need to check in at noon, and sitting around for two hours by myself would drive me crazy..."

Brennan's brow furrowed as she considered Booth's request. "But I'm not your family, Booth. Wouldn't you rather have Parker there with you?

"I think right now, the less Parker knows about this trip, the better off he'll be. Rebecca and I told him that I'm going to do a six week stint of maneuvers overseas as a reservist with the Rangers. That's all he needs to know right now. Rebecca's gonna take him out of school on Tuesday, and I'm gonna spend the day with him before I leave." Studying their clasped hands, Booth sighed quietly. "Besides, as far as I'm concerned, Bones, other than Parker, Jared, and Pops, you're the closest thing I have to a real family." He stopped her before she could protest. "Remember what I told you a few years ago when we were standing in front of the diner that day? There's more than one kind of family, and we don't have to give a name to what we have together just to make other people happy. All that matters is that we're happy." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before he continued. "You've always been here for me, Bones...more than anyone else I know, except maybe for Pops. When I've needed something, even if it was a good chewing out, or if I wanted something, you've been right here next to me all along. Even when I was with Hannah, you were by my side, making an effort to be friends with her because you knew it meant a lot to me. You sacrificed your feelings for me so that I'd be happy. If that doesn't describe family, Bones, I don't know what does. I know you think you're lousy at relationships, but, from where I stand, you're great at them. You're honest and loyal, and you have such a pure and caring heart. I'm so thankful that I have you in my life…" He brushed a tear away from his cheek as he sighed. "I know I'm probably being selfish, asking you to take time off from working on your book to sit with me at the airport for a couple of hours so I won't be bored, but I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I leave, so I have good memories to take with me while I'm doing this job...that is, if you don't mind..."

"Of course I don't mind waiting with you, Booth. Do you want me to pick you up and drive you to the airport?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Maybe we can go to breakfast first…" Booth glanced at his watch. "Speaking of breakfast, I'm getting hungry, and it's almost dinner time. Why don't I call and order us some Thai? I'll be sure to get extra mee krob…"

"Very funny, Booth. I think Thai sounds like a good idea." Brennan walked into the kitchen and opened her refrigerator. "It looks like I have plenty of beer, too."

"Great. I'll call it in." Booth rose from the couch and stretched casually before he sauntered into the kitchen, standing behind Brennan and looking over her shoulder into the refrigerator. "Do you want me to go get you some coconut ice cream?"

She turned to face him, her heart rate accelerating at finding his very strong, very masculine form so close to her. "No, I have some in the freezer. Booth…", she sighed softly, as he put his arms around her and pulled her close. "Aren't you going to call about dinner?"

"In a minute…" Smiling as his eyes met Brennan's, he cupped her face in his hand, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I just want to tell you something first…" He bent down and kissed her lips tenderly. "I've been wanting to do that all afternoon...and I guess maybe for the last seven months...or maybe even for the last six years." Sighing softly, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tenderly tucking it behind her ear. Slightly embarrassed that he'd given into temptation, he cleared his throat. "Um…" He tried to look away from her face, but the soft expression in her eyes drew him in. "Well...I mean…"

"Booth…" Blushing, Brennan pulled away from him. "I thought you were hungry…you said you were going to order some dinner..."

"Sorry...I suppose...um...maybe I shouldn't have done that..." _Jesus...what was I thinking?_ He cleared his throat and looked away from her as he pulled out his phone. "Yeah, I'm hungry. I guess I'd better call the take out place…" _Awkward...very awkward..._

"I suppose so." Brennan pinched her lips together, silent for a few minutes as she set out some plates and glasses. Finally she turned to him with her hands on her hips. "Booth, are you sorry that you kissed me?"

"Well, no...of course not. I wanted to kiss you...I've wanted to kiss you like that for a long time. but I, um...I didn't know if that's what you wanted, and I should've been more respectful of your feelings, you know? I shouldn't have assumed it would be alright for me to invade your personal space like that..." He turned away as he looked for the phone number of the Thai place in his contacts. "Especially since I'm not sure how you feel about it since I was with Hannah for so long…"

Licking her lips, Brennan tilted her head as she thought about what Booth had said. "You mean you shouldn't have assumed that I'd want you to kiss me, right?"

He sighed in frustration. For an intelligent woman, she could be so dense sometimes. "Yes, that's what I meant. I don't want to make you any more uncomfortable around me…" Even more embarrassed now, he turned away from her again to make his phone call. "Look, I already said I'm sorry. Just forget about it, alright? Let's pretend it never happened, okay? I'm gonna call for dinner..."

Brennan stood behind him and put her arms around Booth's waist. Leaning her head against his back, she laughed happily. "I was actually quite comfortable with you kissing me, Booth. It was very enjoyable. In fact, I'd like it very much if you'd kiss me again...if it doesn't make you uncomfortable, that is…"

"Really? Are you sure?" He turned to embrace her, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. Resting his forehead against hers, he grinned. "I'd never be uncomfortable kissing you, Bones." He kissed her again tenderly, breathing out a soft sigh as he looked into her eyes. "But maybe we should practice to make sure we're both comfortable with kissing each other, right?"

Brennan wrapped her arms around Booth's neck and kissed him passionately, happy to finally feel the warmth of his arms around her as he caressed her. Smiling, she arched her eyebrow at him. "Perhaps we should test the adage that practice makes perfect until our dinner arrives…in the name of scientific inquiry, of course…"

"Of course…", Booth chuckled as he kissed her again. "I might need to run several trials…"

They stood in the kitchen, breathless from kissing each other when the doorbell interrupted them. Grumbling slightly, Booth answered the door and brought the food into the kitchen. "That guy's got really bad timing." Twitching an eyebrow at Brennan, he held up the bags. "I guess we should eat our dinner while the food's hot."

After eating in silence for a few minutes, Brennan cleared her throat. "Booth…" She paused, suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. "Would you be willing to spend the night with me tonight?"

"Bones, are you sure that's what you want?" Booth stopped eating and put his chopsticks down, studiously avoiding her gaze as he stared at the dinner table. "I don't want you to think I came over to your apartment today to take advantage of you, you know, with some song and dance about going on a dangerous military mission just to get some sex from you. I know a lot of nasty bastards play that game before their deployment, but you mean too much to me for this to just be pity sex..."

"Well, it has been several weeks since you've engaged in intercourse, hasn't it? I'm sure you're anxious for sex, and I am available this evening…" Brennan laughed to herself as she studied her fingernails, waiting for Booth's reaction to her comment, and she wasn't disappointed with the fiery intensity of his response.

"What the hell are you talking about? It's not like that at all!" Booth was clearly appalled by her comment. "C'mon, Bones! You know me better than that! I'd never use you like that! I wouldn't dream of it! Well...maybe I've dreamt about it, but you know what I mean...me being here this afternoon has nothing to do with that. I wanted to talk to you about some legal things having to do with taking care of my estate so it goes to Parker. That's all….I wasn't trying to scam you..."

"So I suppose that means you're opposed to having sex with me this evening." Seeing Booth's shocked expression, Brennan chuckled softly, shaking her head as she reached over to pat his hand. "I'm joking, Booth. Please believe me when I tell you I don't feel this way out of pity for a soldier who's about to be deployed. I'm not some naive young woman who can be easily swayed by something you might say or do as you try to convince me to come to bed with you. I can make up my own mind about what I want, and right now, I want you...in every way. Surely by now you must know that I love you very much, and I think you care about me, too, don't you?" She fidgeted with her napkin, shrugging a shoulder as she continued. "You remember what I told you that night, when you followed me in the rain several months ago? I said I wished I'd given you a chance that night at the Hoover...that I regretted my original decision. I don't want to live with any more regrets, Booth. I want you." She glanced at him shyly. "Do you care for me?"

"You know I love you...I've always loved you, Bones…ever since that first day I met you…" His eyes finally met hers, and he smiled as he saw the love shining there. "No matter who else was in my life, it's always been you I've loved the most. I was just too blind to see it, I guess, but now I know...it will always be you." He hesitated slightly before continuing cautiously. "I guess I'm just surprised you're not still angry with me...for the whole Hannah thing…I mean, the way you drove off this morning, I really thought you'd never speak to me again."

"I was still angry at you this morning, but since we've discussed the whole situation, I've had an epiphany of sorts." She tilted her head to one side as she studied her plate. "In some ways, I believe that 'whole Hannah thing', as you put it, was just a series of terrible misunderstandings between us. We didn't give each other the benefit of the doubt when it came to our relationship, and, it would seem, our communication skills were severely lacking when it came to working things out. In my opinion, we both made many serious mistakes." She smiled faintly as she rubbed his hand. "Have you forgiven me for breaking your heart in front of the Hoover?"

Booth studied her face for a few seconds, wondering if she could really grasp how much pain he'd suffered that night. "Yes, of course. I mean, it took a while, of course, but…" He moaned softly as he stabbed at his plate with his chopsticks. "But you had to do what you felt was the right thing for you to do, and I understood that...sort of..." He pursed his lips as he moved some food around on his plate. "Have you forgiven me for pushing you into making that decision?"

"Yes, I believe so, although it took me several months of sitting in the heat of a tropical island to do so." She sipped her beer and leveled a concerned gaze at him. "Have you forgiven me for going to the Malukus?"

"What's to forgive? You're an anthropologist. That's your job…"

"And being a soldier is one of your jobs. I was never upset with you about going to Afghanistan…" She grimaced slightly. "...except when I found out about how you put yourself in danger…"

"You weren't upset? Really?" He wore a sardonic smile. "It didn't bother you that I brought home a blonde souvenir from the war zone…"

"I admit...I wasn't happy about that." She tried to laugh. "However, she's gone now…"

"That's true...and it's also true that I got exactly what I deserved from that relationship. I should've known I'd never be able to love her the way I love you. It's hard to explain, you know? How I feel about you? How much...how deep the feeling is. It's like coming home from a war, you know? My life is changed for the better, now. The relief of knowing that you feel the same way...it's like I finally know what I want...and now I can have it. I'm finally at peace with myself...and with you...it's wonderful..."

"Then stay with me tonight, Booth. Let me help you make some more of those good memories to take with you. Perhaps they will serve as an incentive to be careful and to come home as soon as you can…"

"Believe me, that will definitely be an incentive for me." He rose from the table and carried his dishes to the sink. "Let's get the kitchen cleaned up…"

Brennan took his hand in hers, smiling broadly as she took his hand and led him toward her bedroom. "I think the dishes can wait, don't you?"

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: I know some of you in the "make Booth pay for the Hannah fiasco" camp may be unhappy with the ease of his reconciliation with Brennan, but their reconciliation isn't the main point of this story anyway. I decided to give them some time to be happy together before Booth goes on assignment. Sorry if you disagree, but it is my story, after all...**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: thanks for all the kind reviews. They are appreciated. If you have time to review after reading this chapter, that would be great.**_

 _ **And now...a pleasant Sunday afternoon...**_

* * *

Delicate tendrils of pale November sunlight filtered through the curtains of Brennan's bedroom late Sunday morning. Booth lay quietly, listening to Brennan's deep rhythmic breathing as she slept next to him. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about how enormously his life had changed just within the last day. It wasn't merely the fact that he and Bones had made love together for the first time last night, although making love with the beautiful woman lying next to him was just as wonderful as he'd always dreamed it would be. This feeling went far beyond the physical union between the two of them. While he had to admit that the sex itself had been spectacularly fulfilling, there was so much more to it than that. This was also the union of two hearts and souls as well, although, as Booth acknowledged to himself with a soft chuckle, his favorite anthropologist would chastise him severely if she knew he was thinking about her in such abstract metaphysical terms.

 _I love Bones, and she loves me. After all these years, it's actually true. I finally get to say that out loud._..He inhaled deeply as he felt a deep sense of peace flood his whole being. It was hard for him to fathom the depth of his awe at what had happened between them last night. Bones knew everything about him...she knew about all the guilt he'd carried from his past as a sniper...she knew how he felt when he had to kill someone in the line of duty...she knew all about his personal demons...his abusive father...his gambling addiction...she knew about his relationship with Hannah and how it had caused so much pain between the two of them...she knew all about his many quirks and faults...and she loved him anyway, completely and unconditionally. It was the most amazing sensation he'd ever experienced. To be loved that way by this wonderful woman, just for being himself...for who he was, in spite of his myriad imperfections...was too marvelous a sensation to be expressed in words. He knew he'd never felt as intimately connected with any other woman as he did with his Bones. And yes, whether she liked it or not, she was now his Bones, and he'd never let her go. He could imagine Brennan's disgusted eye roll as she chided him for being a stereotypical alpha male, but he didn't care. She was going to belong to him as long as he lived, and nothing would change that.

That sort of complete physical and emotional connection to another human being was what he'd been searching for all of his life, and now that he had it, he knew he'd never be able to live without it again. He sighed sadly, clenching his fists under the sheet, still frustrated when he thought about what might've occurred between himself and Bones seven months ago if Hannah hadn't lied to both of them. _I guess we can't do anything about that now. No use in living in the past, is there? Not when the future looks so bright._ He was thrilled about the change in his relationship with Bones, and it made him even more determined to complete his project for the Army quickly so he could come home to her open arms without delay. He mused over the operation's details one more time until he felt Bones shift slightly next to him. Turning toward him, she sighed contentedly as she yawned, rubbing her eyes as she gave him a sleepy smile.

"Good morning, Sleepyhead." Booth grinned as he bent down to give her a kiss. "It's about time you woke up. I thought you were gonna snooze the whole morning away."

Brennan stretched and then reached over to embrace him. "What time is it?"

He picked up his phone from the nightstand, grimacing slightly as he realized he'd missed a call from an unknown number. "Eleven." He chuckled as she snuggled down back in the sheets. "Are you gonna go back to sleep?"

"No…" Brennan giggled as she tickled Booth's ribs and gave him a quick kiss. "I'm not planning on sleeping right now. Are you?" She stroked his bare chest lightly with her fingertips as she smiled demurely. "I have other activities in mind…"

"Jesus, Bones!" He shuddered in mock horror, pretending to pull away from her before giving her a dimpled grin. "You're gonna have me so worn out I won't be in shape for my job with when it's time for me to go overseas…"

A sudden look of sadness passed over Brennan's face. "I wish you didn't have to go…" She threw in a pouty lip for good measure. "Are you sure you can't change your mind? Maybe someone else can take on the project, and you can stay here with me…"

"We've been over this, Bones…" Booth propped himself up on his elbow as he gently caressed her cheek. "You know that I don't want to leave you, but I have to do this job. When I come back, I'll explain everything, and I know you'll understand, and you'll know I did the right thing. I promise..."

She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "I know, Booth. I'm sorry that I'm being so selfish…" She kissed his lips gently. "Let's not talk about that right now. We're going to be too busy to talk much anyway…"

Oooooooooo

It was almost one in the afternoon when Booth, clad only in his boxers, strolled into the kitchen, hungrily searching through the cabinets and opening the refrigerator, wondering if Brennan had something for him to eat besides tofu and rabbit food. He sighed as he realized the cupboard was almost bare. "Bones...what were you planning to eat for lunch today? There's nothing in here fit for a grown man to eat…" He pushed the spinach and kale aside in disgust as he looked for some masculine sustenance in her refrigerator before turning to rummage through the cupboards once again. "Don't you have any sliced cheese or even some peanut butter? Maybe some bread that doesn't taste like cardboard? Jesus...I'm gonna starve..."

Brennan was pulling a tee shirt on over her panties as she entered the kitchen behind Booth. "Wheat bread is an excellent source of nutrients and fiber, Booth." Rolling her eyes as she brushed past him, she reached into the refrigerator and pulled out half of an egg carton. "Here...this is my carton of emergency eggs. I usually keep them on hand in case you're here and want something 'normal' to eat." She opened the lid and showed him the contents. "Four eggs. You can have some of these, and I'll eat the rest of my grilled vegetable sandwich from yesterday…" She removed her half eaten meal from the day before and pulled the wax paper away from it. "That should be enough for my lunch…"

"Okay, that'll have to do for now. I guess we can go out for dinner tonight. I don't have anything to eat at my place either." Booth cracked two eggs into a bowl and stirred them briskly before pouring them into the small skillet sitting on the stove. "I've completely emptied my fridge. I didn't wanna come back to six weeks worth of grossness if I left something in there by mistake."

Pinching her lips together, hoping to sound nonchalant, Brennan tried to make conversation as she warmed up her sandwich in the microwave. "Is someone going to stay at your apartment while you're gone?"

"Nah...I've paid the rent in advance until the end of the year, and I hired a cleaning service to check on the place once a week. I'll still get some pay from the FBI since I'm on leave from them as a military reservist, so there'll be enough money for the basic utilities. Those bills are automatically drafted from my checking account. I'm gonna give Rebecca a check for three months of child support on Tuesday."

Brennan's brow furrowed with confusion as she thought through Booth's plans. "I thought you said you'd only be be gone for six weeks…"

"That's what I'm planning on, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared in case things take a bit longer. I'm supposed to be home before Christmas, if everything goes according to the script." Scraping his scrambled eggs onto a plate, he turned away from her and shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "If I'm delayed a little longer than the end of the year, maybe you can pay my rent for me?" Grinning sheepishly, he concentrated on adding salt and pepper to his eggs. "You know I'm good for it. I guess I should list you as someone who can sign checks on my bank account, but I'm not sure I'm gonna have time to do that tomorrow..."

"Of course I know you're good for the money, Booth…" Brennan studied her sandwich, trying to avoid eye contact with him, afraid she'd begin to cry as she considered what his leaving meant to her now that they were together. "I do think it would be a good idea for you to add me to your checking account, if you have time to go by the bank tomorrow. That way, if I needed to, I could write child support checks for Rebecca…" She tried to blink back her tears at that thought. "...if you want me to, that is…"

Sitting down with his lunch, Booth reached across the table and covered her hand with his, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "I'm gonna come home as soon as I can, okay? And then me and you are gonna start a new life together..."

"Well, as you said, Booth, it doesn't hurt to be prepared for the worse case scenario." Brennan tried to smile as she looked across the table at him. "Don't worry. I won't spend your money frivolously…"

"I know…I trust you...and it's not like there's actually that much extra to spend in my bank account anyway. You might be able to buy an extra tank of gas, or maybe a cheap bottle of wine..." Booth tried to grin back at Brennan as he moved his eggs around on his plate. Suddenly he wasn't nearly as hungry as he had been just a few minutes ago. "Okay, I'll go by the bank first thing in the morning and see what I need to do to add you to my account. I'm also gonna go by the Pentagon to make sure the Army changes my paperwork like we talked about yesterday, alright? They've got an expert in the Judge Advocate General's office who specializes in that sort of thing...she can fix it while I wait, and then I can get it witnessed and notarized, all nice and legal, while I'm there..."

Nodding in agreement, Brennan took a bite of her sandwich. "Yes, that's fine. If I have to sign anything for them, I can go do that later this week."

"Good. Now, let's talk about something else, okay? I want to talk about something more pleasant." Booth got up from the table and rinsed his plate. "What do you want to do for the rest of the day? Do you want to go for a run, or maybe take a drive somewhere? I guess we could go to a movie if there's something you want to see. I'd like to get out this afternoon since we stayed in almost all day yesterday..."

"A drive might be nice. Maybe we can find some nice fall foliage somewhere. It's a nice day today." Brennan smiled happily as she thought of another possibility. "Oh, I have a good idea! Why don't we go over to Rock Creek Park for the afternoon? It has several hiking trails and a nice nature center, and I'm sure the fall foliage is beautiful at this time of year."

"That does sound like a good idea. Maybe on the way home we can go to Rigoletto's for dinner, alright? You can have some eggplant parmigiana and I can have some veal marsala or mussels marinara…"

Chuckling at Booth, Brennan shook her head as she stood with her hands on her hips. "Do you always plan your days around what you're going to eat, Booth?"

"Yeah, of course...what I'm gonna eat, and who I'm gonna spend my time with. Having a tactical plan for what I'm gonna do for the day makes things more efficient." Booth moved to embrace Brennan as he gave her dimpled charm smile. "We can have a nice dinner and come back here for some dessert…"

"An excellent idea…" Brennan gave Booth a kiss and smiled as she looked down at her thin tee shirt and skimpy panties. "I'll go get dressed…"

"Yeah, me too." He sauntered into the bedroom after her, trying to figure out where his jeans had landed after they'd quickly undressed the night before. "Wow...I guess we were in a hurry…" He looked under the bed for one of his socks. "I don't suppose I have a sweatshirt over here, do I? Maybe one that you stole from me sometime in the past?"

Brennan batted her eyelashes at him innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about, Booth...I never steal your shirts…"

"Yeah, right...of course not." He gave her a sarcastic smirk. "C'mon, Bones. Even Hannah commented on how many of my shirts you seemed to have acquired from me over the years as we've worked together…" _Jesus! That was stupid!_ Wishing he'd kept his mouth shut, Booth cringed as he saw the flicker of annoyance run across Brennan's face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up again…" He reached out to take Brennan's hand, but she pulled away from him.

"It's only natural that you should talk about Hannah from time to time, Booth." Turning away from him, Brennan sighed softly as she looked through the clothes hanging from the closet rod. "You were intimately involved in a very intense relationship with her for several months…" Avoiding eye contact with Booth, she took a black FBI sweatshirt out of her closet and handed it to him. "Here. I think this is yours…"

Walking over to the closet door, Booth embraced Brennan tenderly and kissed her pout away. "You know what? Hannah also used to make sarcastic comments about how much I talked about you and about how I wore a silly smile whenever I looked at you, and about how I went out of my way to check on you and to take care of you, even though you're a responsible adult and quite capable of taking care of yourself. I guess she realized I wanted to be intimately involved with you even though I was in a relationship with her, and it really made her angry. I think that's the main reason she left me...she figured out that you'll always be first in my life, you know?" Grinning broadly, Booth chuckled. "And now that I finally am intimately involved with you, I'm pretty sure I'm the happiest man in the world…so will you forgive me for mentioning her, Bones?"

"I suppose." Brennan smirked as she grabbed her clothes and shoes from the closet. "I'm sure you know that there's no way to actually quantify happiness, Booth…" Brennan grinned at him, knowing that he was expecting her to say something scientifically sound. She pulled a grey Army sweatshirt over her tee shirt as she continued. "However, I find that I am also extremely happy right now."

Booth twitched an eyebrow at her. "That was definitely the right answer, Bones. Ready to go?"

She nodded as she took Booth's hand in hers. "Yes. Let's go…"

Oooooooooo

They spent a couple of hours hiking in the park, enjoying the fall colors and each other's company. As the sun was beginning to set, they sat on a bench in front of a small pond which was rimmed with copper leafed maple trees. Wanting something to capture the memory, Booth used his phone to take a picture of the scenery. Waving at a passing couple, Booth called out to them. "Hey, could one of you take our picture?"

"Sure…" One of the people took the phone from Booth and took their picture with his phone and then with Brennan's.

"Hey, thanks…" Booth smiled as he saw the picture that had been taken. "This is a great picture…" He held up his phone and took a picture of Brennan. "I'm gonna look at this picture of you everyday while I'm gone…"

Brennan giggled as she saw the pictures on Booth's phone. "I think I have a better picture of myself if you want it. I look rather disheveled in this one."

"Nah...I like this candid one...this is my Bones. This is how I think of you...beautiful smile, cute ponytail, a couple of freckles on your nose..." Booth chuckled as he saw her slight grimace at his description of her. "But if you want, you can give me the other picture for my wallet, okay?"

"Alright." The sun was setting and the air had taken on a slight chill. Brennan shivered slightly in the shadows of the trees as she rose from the bench. "I'm getting cold. Are you ready to go have dinner?"

"Yeah. I'm getting hungry." Booth stood up and pulled Brennan close so he could kiss her. "Thanks for spending the day with me, Bones. We made some great memories today, didn't we? I love you so much…"

She hesitated slightly, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the feeling of his strong arms around her. "I love you, too, Booth…"

Oooooooooo

They laughed and talked through dinner, lingering over their wine as they enjoyed their meal. It was late when they got back to Brennan's apartment. Brennan turned on the light as they entered the living room, still talking about their meal. "That was an excellent dinner, Booth. I'm glad you suggested that place. The eggplant parmigiana was wonderful."

"Yeah, Rigoletto's is one of my favorite restaurants. Giorgio is a great guy. His family moved to DC from Sicily a few years ago, and he still uses his grandmother's recipes." Booth plopped down on the sofa, pulling a giggling Brennan down next to him. "Listen, I think I'm gonna go back to my apartment tonight. I don't want to take advantage of your hospitality, you know? I don't wanna wear out my welcome..."

"Oh…" Brennan was clearly disappointed. "Is something wrong? Did I upset you somehow?"

"No, of course not." He smiled as he put arm around her. "It's just that I've got a lot of things to do tomorrow, and I need to get an early start. I think if I stay here tonight, I'm gonna be tempted to be lazy and stay in bed with you all morning long tomorrow…Ow!" He pretended to grimace as she playfully poked him in the ribs. "So I think I'll do my running around early in the morning, and then, if you don't have any other plans, Dr. Brennan, I'll come over tomorrow evening and spend some quality time with you before I spend the day with Parker on Tuesday…"

"I understand, Booth…" Brennan's hands began to roam purposefully over Booth's chest as she moved onto his lap. "...but you don't have to leave at this exact moment, do you? You can stay a few more hours with me, right? I think we can enjoy each other's company this evening if we use our time wisely. After all, Booth, you did promise me dessert for later this evening, remember?" She giggled as he nibbled her ears and kissed her throat. "In fact, if we start now, I think we can accomplish quite a bit…" Brennan reached down and grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt, pulling it up over her head. She then removed her tee shirt and undid the clasp on her bra, throwing all of her clothing items on the floor. "Are you sure you can't stay tonight? I'll set my alarm for very early tomorrow morning…" She gently nipped his lower lip before she pulled him close to kiss him deeply. "Please, Booth...stay with me…at least for a few more hours..."

Booth groaned softly as he began to caress Brennan's breasts while she straddled his lap. "Bones...I gotta go...home…" She swiveled her hips over his groin as she pulled him close and kissed him again. "Jesus, Bones…" He sighed deeply, wishing that he was stronger, knowing he'd never be able to resist her if she wanted something from him. "Hmph." He broke away from her kiss and nodded in agreement. "Okay, okay...I'll stay...but you have to be reasonable, alright? I'm gonna need to get some sleep tonight. I need to get up at six tomorrow morning…"

She chuckled softly. "I'll be sure to set the alarm, but I don't know how reasonable I'll be…"

"Hmmm…" Booth moaned as Brennan reached under his tee shirt and ran the back of her hand along the fine hairs on his abdomen down toward the zipper of his jeans. She grinned at his pained expression as she ran her fingers across his navel and under his waistband. "Bones, c'mon...that's not fair…"

Giggling, she kissed him again. "Of course it's not fair…" She ran her fingers in a gentle tickle across his abdominal muscles. "But it is very effective…"

"Definitely effective." He quickly turned them so that Brennan was lying on her back on the sofa with him on top of her, looking down into her beautiful blue eyes. "Now I'm gonna show you just how effective it was…"

Brennan licked her lips as she arched her eyebrow at him. "I can't wait…"

Oooooooooo

It was 5:30 the following morning when Brennan crawled out of her bed quietly, trying not to wake Booth. Pulling on her robe and tying it haphazardly around her waist, she gazed with pleasure at his wonderfully masculine form as he snored softly. Glancing at the clock again, she decided to start the coffee so it'd be ready when Booth got up at six.

Brennan wasn't normally an early riser, but the emotional roller coaster of the last two days had left her acutely conscious of her inner turmoil...turmoil she'd often had when she'd thought of Booth in the past, but now there it was even more evident. Now she was quite aware of her own feelings as well, and those feelings had kept her awake most of the night. She shuffled sleepily around her kitchen, making some tea and toast for herself as the coffee brewed.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, she studied her teacup as she absentmindedly broke off a corner of her toast. Falling back in love with Booth over the last two days had been ridiculously easy...so easy in fact, that Brennan doubted that she'd ever stopped loving him to begin with, no matter what had happened since he'd returned from Afghanistan with Hannah in tow. Brennan had thought she'd adapted to Hannah's presence marvelously well, having pushed her feelings for Booth aside as she tried to move on to living a life without him, but it appeared that it had just been a mirage. It was obvious now that she had never adapted...that she'd never stopped loving him.

Chuckling to herself, she imagined what Angela would say if she knew about the present situation. The two friends got together every Friday while Brennan was on sabbatical to share lunch and to stay in touch. This coming Friday might be the last lunch before Angela gave birth, and Brennan had to decide just how much to tell her about this new aspect of her relationship with Booth…

Angela had often plotted ways to remove Hannah from Booth's life after they returned to the States, and she'd also tried to school Brennan on ways to make Booth jealous enough to leave the interloper behind, but Brennan had always resisted getting involved in those imaginative plots. Now that she and Booth were on the verge of a committed relationship, she wondered if Angela would think she'd caved in to Booth's charms too easily. Brennan realized she hadn't made Booth work very hard to earn her love again…she hadn't made him beg for forgiveness for his supposed transgressions, and she hadn't made him squirm uneasily by pretending to no longer care for him. She had decided that subterfuge wasn't necessary to prove her point to Booth. She felt that she was as much to blame for their time apart as he was. She had been too scared to take the chance on loving him when he'd asked her to do so, and she'd regretted what she considered to be the largest mistake of her life many times over during the many months they'd been apart.

But he still loved her. She found she still hadn't grasped the wonder that went with that statement. He loved her just the way she was...socially awkward, unsure of herself in relationships...and he still loved her. It was incredible. As an anthropologist, she knew that a loving bond was necessary for the continuation of human society, but to actual participation in that sort of relationship had always seemed to be out of her reach, until now. Now she had Booth, and she planned on keeping that loving bond intact as long as she possibly could.

Shaking her head, Brennan took another sip of her tea. In reality, it didn't make any difference what Angela or anyone else thought about the two of them being together. Now that she and Booth were finally on the same page, Brennan was determined not to take the chance of losing him again. After years of wanting to cross Booth's damn imaginary line...after sitting in her tiny hut for all those long months in Maluku, wishing she'd been strong enough to take a chance on them loving each other...after months of watching Booth being happy with Hannah, wishing she'd said yes to him that night in front of the Hoover...she wasn't going to risk it. She didn't have time for silly games that might leave her intentions towards him in doubt. As a grown woman, she knew exactly what she wanted. Booth had offered himself to her, and she was going to take him up on his offer, and she found that she didn't care what anyone else might think about their relationship. All that mattered was that they were happy together right now.

As Brennan broke off another corner of her toast, she thought of a novel she'd read in high school. She'd hated the silly story that was told by Jane Austen in _Pride and Prejudice_ , but she'd always remembered one paragraph in particular...

" _Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now. But in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall remember it myself."_

And now that she and Booth were finally in a romantic relationship, this was most definitely one of those cases...and hopefully, it would be the last time she would have to remember the sadness of the past months.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: thanks for all the reviews and for the continued interest in my story. It is appreciated. Please remember that this story is AU, and that most of the events after Booth's proposal to Hannah do not occur.**_

* * *

At 5:45 AM Monday morning Booth's eyes popped open as his restless mind went into high gear, thinking over his plans for the day. He had a lot to do, and his brain simply refused to let him sleep any longer. He shut off the alarm and lay there for a few minutes, trying to give himself a pep talk. _C'mon...you need to drag your sorry ass out of bed..._

He groaned softly while he sat on the side of the bed, flexing his feet as he considered once again what a man his age was doing in taking on a difficult assignment like this. _Crazy fool...I'm way too old for this shit…_

Getting ready for a deployment always set him on edge as his way of thinking transitioned from civilian to soldier. Whether it was pre flight jitters or the rush of adrenaline, the change always unsettled him as he got his affairs in order before he left to take on a project. Today it was even more challenging, because he was preparing himself to leave his Bones behind as well.

After a quick shower and shave, he pulled on his clothes and checked his hair in the mirror. _Not too bad, I guess...at least Bones thinks I look okay, right?_ He checked his phone and noticed another missed call. He'd had it on silent so he wouldn't be disturbed while he spent the weekend with his girlfriend, but it seemed someone was determined to bother him. He grumbled to himself. _Damn telemarketers. I wonder how they got my number…_ He shrugged as he put the phone in his least he had time for a cup of coffee and a bite to eat before he left for the day.

The sight that greeted him as he entered the kitchen was perfection. His scantily clad girlfriend was standing next to the stove, intent on what she was doing as she cooked something in a skillet. She wasn't wearing any make up, and her hair hadn't been brushed yet, but she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He would've been content to watch her cook all morning if he hadn't had so much to do that day. Sighing softly, he enjoyed a few minutes of domestic bliss before clearing his throat softly to avoid startling her.

"Good morning, Bones." Booth leaned over to give her a kiss before throwing his leather jacket over a chair. He smiled as he smoothed the front of his dark long sleeved tee shirt, sniffing the wonderful aroma that filled the air. "Something smells good."

Looking up from her task, Brennan grinned back at him. "I'm making French toast for your breakfast." She winked at him as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "I wanted to prove to you that whole wheat bread could actually taste good." Serving up a warm piece of bread from the skillet, she smiled as she dusted it with a powdered sugar and cinnamon mixture before handing him the plate. "Here you go."

"This looks great. So I've got a beautiful woman cooking a wonderful breakfast for me this morning. All I need now is some crispy bacon, and then I'll know I'm in Heaven." He laughed softly as he waited for her indignant reaction, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Why would I ruin a perfectly good breakfast by including what is basically fried pork fat?" She glowered at him over her glass of orange juice before turning back to the frying pan on the stove. "Bacon is very bad for you, you know. It's loaded with sodium and various carcinogenic chemicals that are used in the preservation process. I don't know why anyone would eat it."

"Maybe because it tastes good? I like having a little bit of fried fat for breakfast every now and then." He chuckled as she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Okay, okay...no bacon. How about a little bit of jelly? Maybe some of that fancy strawberry jam you have hidden in the back of the fridge?"

Nodding in agreement, she took some strawberry preserves from the refrigerator and joined him at the table. "I hope you like your breakfast…"

He ate enthusiastically, savoring each bite. "This is really good French toast. There's some sort of extra flavor here that I can't quite figure out, and it adds a lot to it…"

"I used vanilla flavored almond milk instead of cow's milk, and I didn't use any egg products."

"French toast made with no eggs?" Booth was surprised as he took another bite of his breakfast. "Well, I'll be damned...it sure tastes good, though…"

After watching him enjoy his breakfast for a few minutes, she cleared her throat softly. "I was wondering, Booth...do you have a safety deposit box? Is there anything in there I might need while you're gone?"

"Hmm...maybe." He pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and looked through it. "This stuff is what I'm turning in to the Army this morning, but I have copies of my birth certificate and Parker's birth certificate in the bank box, as well as a copy of my will. There are a couple of mementos in there from Pops, too...things Parker is supposed to have from him some day, like a gold watch and some of his service ribbons, as well as a couple of items from my time in the Army...my Purple Heart...stuff like that." Seeing the question in her eyes, he nodded. "I may be able to get you a key, but it'll probably take a while. I'll see what the banker says. If I can't get it this morning, I'll have them order one for you."

"Alright." Brennan sighed quietly as she took another drink of her juice. "Have you told your grandfather what you're going to be doing while you're gone?"

Shaking his head, Booth sipped his coffee pensively. "Nah...I didn't see any reason to make him worry about me anymore than he already does. I told him what I told Parker...it's just six weeks of maneuvers in Europe. No big deal. Anyway, a lot of the mission is top secret, and he'd want too many details. It's better not to let the cat out of the bag." He exhaled slowly as he cut another bite from his toast. "I did tell him that I was gonna make you executor of my estate, and he was relieved to hear that. He said he's been worried about what would happen to Parker's stuff if he passed on and couldn't take care of it for me.

Running her fingers over her glass, Brennan tilted her head as she watched her boyfriend eat his meal. "It'll be a big deal if you run into difficulties and can't come home as soon as you've planned. I believe you should tell him the truth, Booth."

"We'll see. I'm afraid he'd get himself all worked up over nothing, but maybe I can let him know something when I get to where I'm going." Booth reached over to pat her hand. "Hey, maybe you could call to check on him once in awhile, okay? He'd love that. He thinks you can walk on the water, Bones." Wearing a wry smile, Booth spooned some jam onto his French toast. "He gave me hell when he found out I'd proposed to Hannah. He never did like her, you know, and he made no real effort to disguise that fact. ' _Blondie is no good for you...you mark my words.'_ Booth grinned as he mimicked his grandfather's gruff voice. _'You just wait...she'll leave you high and dry once she gets a better offer. You need Temperance, Shrimp…you're crazy if you give that wonderful woman up and hang around with Blondie instead...'_ Turns out he was right, huh? I may never hear the end of it from him when he finds out finally we're together…" He gave her a broad wink. "But you gotta watch out for that old coot, okay? He might get frisky if you're not careful. He's crazy about you, and if he was ten years younger, I'd have to worry about him trying to steal you away from me. He's always going on about how pretty you are, and how smart you are. He's always saying, _'Temperance is a keeper, Shrimp. Don't let her get away…"_

Brennan smiled happily as she thought of Pops. "Your grandfather is a very wise man. He loves you very much."

"Yeah, I know. I owe a lot to him for where I am today." He smiled as he looked over at the stove. "Is there any more French toast?"

"So what you're saying is that wheat bread isn't so bad after all." Brennan smirked as she brought some more food to the table. "I knew you'd come around."

"What I'm actually saying is the only way to make whole wheat bread edible is to cover it with lots of sugar and strawberry jam." He laughed as she pretended to glare at him. "C'mon...I'm eating it, right?"

"I suppose." She smiled into her tea cup, deciding not to mention that the jam was organic and sugar free. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Oh, Jesus. Look at the time." Booth ate his last bite of toast and drained his coffee cup before carrying his dishes to the sink. "I've got to go. I've got lots of stuff to do today. I want to get things done quickly so I can come back home to you as soon as I can this evening." Chuckling, he wiped a dab of powdered sugar from her nose before giving her a kiss. "I'll see you later."

"Good bye." She sighed sadly as he closed the door on the way out. At least he'd be coming back to the apartment tonight. In a few days he'd be leaving her for several weeks, and she found that she was dreading that terribly.

oooooooooo

Booth glanced at his watch as he strode across the bank's parking lot toward his SUV that sunny Monday morning. It was only 9:30 AM, and he was pleased that he was making good time as he tried to clear his list of errands for the day. The young personal banker who had assisted him that morning had been most anxious to please the handsome, soon to be deployed Sergeant Major Booth, trying to make it as easy as she possibly could to order an extra safety deposit box key and to add Brennan as a signer on his checking account. Bones just had to endorse the signature card the banker had given him and mail it to the bank at her convenience. Booth smiled to himself, knowing it would be just a day or two before she'd return the card to the bank, and then she could pick up the key for the safety deposit box. It was a great comfort for him to have her looking after his interests here at home while he was gone. If anyone could be trusted to take excellent care of things for him, it was his Bones.

Running through the errand list in his mind one more time, Booth decided to go see Colonel Randall at his Pentagon office so he could finish getting all of his deployment paperwork in order before going by his apartment. He thought it might take him most of the afternoon to pack for his trip and finish up a few odds and ends at his place, and then he'd pick up some dinner for himself and Bones. As he unlocked the car, he wondered what she might like to eat that evening. _Thai would be easy, but I'm kinda tired of that. I'd love to have a nice thick steak, cooked medium rare and covered with broiled, buttered mushrooms, and maybe a huge baked potato covered with butter and sour cream, and possibly a small salad on the side to make Bones think I was eating healthy, but then what would she eat? A tofu steak? Yuck..._ His musings were interrupted by his ringing telephone. Retrieving it from his pocket, he snarled slightly when he saw it was from the same unknown phone number as earlier in the day. _Damn telemarketers. How'd they even get my number?_ He tried to ignore it, letting it go to voicemail again, hoping whoever was on the other end would get the message, but that obviously wasn't going to work, because five minutes later his phone began ringing again. Finally his curiosity got the best of him, and he decided to answer it. "Booth…", he barked. "Whoever the hell you are, this better be worth bugging me for, 'cause I'm busy here. I don't have time to waste on a bunch of shit from some goddamn jackass selling something I don't need."

"Hey, Booth...good to hear your voice again. It's John Green…remember me? You're a hard man to get a hold of. You wouldn't be dodging me, would you?" The smooth, smarmy voice on the other end of the call practically oozed out of the phone as the man continued. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Buddy? I've missed talking to you, you know? What have you been up to lately? Still a Feeb, right? I heard you finally made Special Agent in Charge...it's about time..."

Surprised by the caller's identity, Booth's blood ran cold as he leaned back against the side of the SUV, trying to figure out Green's angle. It was strange for the guy to call out of the blue like this...unless the son of a bitch wanted a big favor, and that was definitely not going to happen this time. "Yeah, I'm still with the FBI, but right now I'm busy getting ready for a reservist training trip overseas. I gotta go, John. Sorry I don't have time to chat, but I gotta take care of a pile of paperwork for the Army and all that shit…you know how it goes when you gotta go out of town for a couple of weeks like that..."

A sarcastic laugh interrupted him. "I know all about your 'overseas training trip', Booth...you should know by now that you can't hide anything from me...not even a black ops mission on the other side of the world." Green paused a few seconds for dramatic effect before continuing in a snarky tone. "I'm disappointed that you chose that trip over the one I suggested to you earlier this year. You know the CIA appreciates your special talents so much more than the Army does, and the pay is a helluva lot better..."

Ignoring the implication that Green knew about his secret mission, Booth growled into his phone. "The last time I went on a 'trip' you suggested, Green, I almost got myself killed. No more of that shit for me, okay? I'm not aiming to get my head shot off for anybody anymore. Sorry, Buddy, but you called the wrong guy. This is gonna be short one anyway. In, out, and home, and then I'm done for good. I'm gonna officially separate from the service and begin a new life. No more overseas projects for me. I'm gonna stay home with my girlfriend and live a nice, normal life."

"You're a fucking liar, Booth." Green's low chuckle rumbled through the phone. "That sort of 'normal' life would bore you to tears. You'd be climbing the walls if you had to stay home like a good boy. You know you can't give up the hunt that easily...it's in your blood. Guys like you never really quit, right? You'll be ready to go out on a job again in a couple of months after you officially 'separate from the service'…we both know that's true, don't we? You like being on the prowl...tracking your quarry...taking the bastard out..."

Enraged and disgusted by Green's opinion of him, Booth's knuckles grew white as he gripped his phone. "Hey, look at the time, Green. I gotta go. I wish I could say it's been nice talking to you, but you know how it goes, John. Hearing from you is like being kicked in the balls. And I ain't no fucking liar, you goddamn fucking bastard, so listen good, alright? After this job, I'm finished with this kind of dirty work. You're gonna need to find someone else to do your killing for you, got it? Maybe you oughta call that son of a bitch Broadsky. As much as he likes the hunt, he'd probably do the job for free. Oh, and John? Don't ever call me again, or I'll find you, and you'll end up being my next project." Booth ended the call and jammed his phone in his pocket.

After getting into his car, Booth sat there in the parking lot for a few minutes, inhaling deeply as he tried to rein in his racing thoughts. _Maybe John's right. What if I really do like the hunt that much? Maybe I really am a bad guy…maybe that's why I'm going to do this job instead of staying home with Bones...except this time it's personal. I'm gonna take out that son of a bitch over there, and then I'm gonna be done, just like I told Green._ Glancing at the dashboard clock, he shook off his doubts. He had things to do before he left to take care of this project, and he didn't have time to sit and stew. _Time to go see Colonel Randall…_

oooooooooo

Cursing softly as he tossed his phone aside, John Green sat at his desk, going through Booth's personnel file one more time. He sat back in his chair, fidgeting with a paperclip as he considered the situation before him. Normally, in a case like this, Green would've called Jacob Broadsky first about taking this job, but Jake was way off the reservation right now, and no one had heard from him in several months. The latest rumor was that Jake had changed his name and moved to South Africa to work with a group of mercenaries who wanted to take out some minor African dictator. Anyway, Jake was a hothead, and overly proud of his 'accomplishments', calling himself the 'Hand of God'...not the guy Green needed right now. This job called for a skilled marksman with a steady hand and a cool head...an impersonal professional gunslinger with nothing to prove...in other words, the one and only Seeley Booth. Nodding to himself, Green knew what to do. He desperately needed Booth for the job he had planned, and he wasn't in the mood to take no for an answer...not with something this important on the table. Drumming his fingers on his desk, Green shrugged his shoulders as he considered his options. Really, truth be told, there was no problem. There were several ways to make sure that Booth would be willing to comply with the CIA's request for his services. In fact, if Green was clever, he might even make Booth want to volunteer for the assignment. By the time he was done putting pressure on that fucking feeb, good ol' Seeley Booth would be begging to take the target out.

Pulling another file from the stack, Green opened it and began to skim through it, looking through paragraph after paragraph until he found the item he wanted. A wicked smile spread across his face as he read the page again. That was exactly what he needed. Problem solved…

A mess had been created in a faraway place, and John Green needed Seeley Booth's sniper rifle to help him clean things up. _I'll let him think he can get away with telling me no...and then I'll spring the trap...and he'll have to help me take care of that bastard…or he'll have to pay a hefty price if he refuses..._

Oooooooooo

Sitting down at his small kitchen table, Booth finished the last beer from his refrigerator before leaving his apartment. He'd just finished the letter he was leaving for Bones in case he couldn't make it home as he hoped, and after folding it, he sealed it in an envelope and propped it up on the table. _To Bones. To be opened only in the event of my death._ He knew her well enough to know that she'd use the key he was leaving with her to come by his apartment on occasion so she'd feel close to him while he was away. She'd be curious about the envelope's contents, but she'd respect his wishes and not peek inside if she thought he was going to be coming home soon.

Glancing around, he tried to take in every detail of the place, wanting to commit everything to memory. So many different chapters of his personal history had happened in that little apartment, both good and bad. It had been thoroughly cleaned, and he'd hired a cleaning service to come once a week to do the dusting and vacuuming. Booth drained the bottle and got up to put it in the recycling bin when something caught his eye. Striding across the living room, he picked up the gaudily gilded picture frame and sighed. He thought he'd gotten rid of all the pictures of Hannah that had at one time adorned the place, but he had obviously forgotten that one. He quickly dumped it into his trash can before picking up his duffle bag, laptop, and backpack. He'd spend Monday and Tuesday evenings with Bones before leaving for his assignment Wednesday morning. Chuckling quietly, he took one final look around the apartment before he turned to lock the front door. Originally, he had planned to stay in his own apartment Tuesday night, but he knew that Bones would veto that plan...not that he was unhappy about that. He'd loved the way she had vetoed his plans to leave last night…

Booth went through his mental checklist again. As far as he could tell, everything was done. All that was left was to spend the day with Parker tomorrow and then return the SUV to the FBI motor pool parking lot. Bones would pick him up there and take him back to her place, and then she'd take him to the airport Wednesday morning.

Striding out to the SUV, he smiled to himself as he thought about filling out all the paperwork at Colonel Randall's office. _Maybe I better not tell Bones that Colonel Randall assumed she was my wife...when I get back, it'll be an easy error to correct, if I decide I want to. I'm not sure Colonel Randall even paid attention to the question anyway. I do like thinking about Bones being my wife...and it sure made the changes to my paperwork easier…especially changing the will. Good thing they have those Army lawyers right there at the Pentagon to take care of that kind of shit…_ Chuckling to himself, he nodded as he checked his mirrors before pulling out onto the main thoroughfare. _Maybe I ought to tell her that since the Army thinks we're married we've gotta make it true. Yeah...I'm sure that'd work, right? She'd be all over that...doing something just because of what someone else says is right._ His phone rang as he pulled the SUV out of it's parking place. "Shit! Again?" Looking over his shoulder to make sure there weren't any cars in the way, he answered the phone without checking the caller ID, yelling loudly into it. "Goddammit! What the hell do you want? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Booth? Is everything okay?"

He cringed as he heard the quaver in Brennan's voice. He hadn't meant to upset her like that. "Yeah, things are fine. I've just been flooded with meaningless phone calls today, and it's kinda put me behind in running all my last minute errands, but it looks like I've gotten everything done. Just pre-trip jitters. No big deal. Hey, I'm on the way over. What should I pick up for dinner?" He silently cursed at the slow moving truck ahead of him, wanting to get to Brennan's apartment as soon as possible. He hadn't seen her all day, and he missed her terribly. _Jesus...how am I gonna handle it...six weeks with no Bones..._

"That's why I'm calling you. I went to the store this morning and I'm making you a bon voyage dinner this evening. I hope that's satisfactory. I know you may have had other plans in mind."

"Wow, really? Of course that's satisfactory. I mean, I don't want to put you to a lot of trouble…" Booth suddenly found himself to be starving. "What are you planning to make for dinner?"

"It's a surprise!" Brennan giggled at Booth's grumbling protest. "Don't worry, Booth. You'll enjoy it. When will you be here?"

Glancing at his watch as he waited for the stoplight to change, Booth shrugged as the cars streamed through the busy intersection. "With this traffic it might take me twenty to thirty minutes. I'll probably be at your place between five thirty and six…"

Brennan's girlish giggle suddenly turned into a sultry chuckle. "I'll be waiting impatiently. Our plans for this evening involve other things besides having a pleasant dinner…."

"I see. That does sound interesting..." Booth laughed softly as the light changed and he drove through the intersection. "Well, I don't want to go to traffic school for a big speeding ticket when I get back from my trip, so you may just have to be patient, Bones. I'll be there as soon as I can…love you."

He hung up the phone and threw it into the cup holder on the console. It was definitely going to be an interesting evening.

Oooooooooo

After ringing the doorbell, Booth grinned broadly as he waved his fingers at the peephole in Brennan's door. Laughing and shaking her head at his silliness, she opened the door and he casually sauntered in. "Hi, honey. I'm home…", he said in his best cartoon character voice. He tossed his duffle bag in a corner of her entry foyer and pulled her into an embrace. "Something smells real good in here...something besides you…although you smell good enough to eat, too." Arching his eyebrow seductively, he gave her a quick kiss before he walked toward the kitchen. "How was your day?"

"Actually, my day was quite productive." Brennan began pulling plates and glasses from the kitchen cabinets. "I used the idea you gave me for my new novel, and I've outlined the rest of the chapters, including the twist at the end. All I have to do now is fill in the details." She smiled as she opened the oven and pulled out two ramekins filled with crusty macaroni and cheese. "I also made one of your favorite dinners." She held one of the dishes up so he could take a whiff of the enticing aroma, playfully slapping his hand away as he tried to steal a bite. "And I was able to do some adjustments on an apple pie recipe I found online, so I made an apple tart instead of a pie. I hope you like it. I wanted to have a nice home cooked dinner for you tonight so you wouldn't have to rush your visit with Parker tomorrow." She laid out the silverware and dishes on the table as she continued talking. "There's some beer in the refrigerator, and a salad..." Seeing the unhappy look on Booth's face, Brennan hesitated uncomfortably. "Is there a problem, Booth? Did I say something wrong?"

He smiled sadly. "No, of course not. This is great, Bones. Everything looks great. Thanks for making me such a nice dinner." Shrugging his shoulders, he turned to get a beer out of the refrigerator. "It's just…it's hard to explain, I guess." He sighed as he opened the bottle and took a drink, leaning against the kitchen counter as he watched her set the table. "Seeing how nice it is to come home to a beautiful woman who loves me, and a great dinner...knowing what I've missed out on while we were apart...it's just that I have some regrets, you know? I mean, I could've spent so many evenings with you, doing this exact same thing, being happy spending time with you, but instead, I let myself think that I loved Hannah instead of you. I was so stupid, and look what it's cost me…" He slumped as he ran a knuckle under his eye. "Everything I wanted was right here all along...right under my nose…"

"Booth…" Brennan tried to soothe him as she lovingly embraced him. "I know we've missed spending time together over the last seven months, but we can't do anything about that right now. There's no use in dwelling on the past..."

"I know." He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "I know." He sniffled a bit and tried to chuckle. "Hey, is dinner ready? It smells so good, and I'm starved…"

Oooooooooo

It wasn't long after the dinner dishes were done that they had adjourned to Brennan's bedroom. They had spent the rest of the evening making love, each one focusing on pleasing and satisfying the other more than themselves, and both finding pure happiness in being united in love with the one person they cherished the most.

Booth lay with his arms wrapped around Brennan, staring into the darkness as he listened to her quiet breathing while she slept. _I wish we could stay like this forever...what I wouldn't give to be able to skip that mission and stay here with Bones, but it's too late for that..._ He tenderly brushed the hair away from her face as she moaned softly. _When Colonel Randall called about this project, I was a single guy with not much to lose, except time with my son...I didn't have much to tie me down, so I said yes. God dammit! If I'd only known the truth...but_ _I've never walked away from a mission like this before, and I can't do that now...the plans are already in motion. I can't back out...it's too late…But, You know, Lord, I want to back out...I don't want to go. I don't want to leave Bones…or Parker...or Pops..._ Breathing deeply, Booth tried to calm his anguished thoughts as he shifted in the bed. _I have to go do this thing...but, Lord, please keep me safe so I can return home in one piece...please send St. Michael and St. George ahead of me to protect me on my mission...please help me come home safe to Bones, Lord...You know I don't ever want to leave her alone….I don't want to lose her...If You've got time, I'd appreciate it if You kept Your eye on things here, Lord. Bones doesn't believe in You, but that doesn't mean she won't need the help while I'm gone. I'd appreciate it. Thanks. Amen..._


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Thanks for all the kind reviews. I wrote this story mostly to entertain myself, but it's nice to know that others are enjoying it, too.**_

 _ **Today we get a little peek at some family time...**_

* * *

It was 8:30 Tuesday morning when Booth showed up at the front door of Rebecca's house, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited on the porch, ringing the doorbell again. After standing there for another minute or two, he knocked loudly on the door. "Hey, Rebecca...it's me. Open up! Is Parker ready to go? I've got a big day planned for us and we need to get on the road." He growled in exasperation. "C'mon...c'mon...what's taking so long...we need to get going..."

"Sorry...I was on the phone with the office. Some of us have to work today, you know..." Rebecca shrugged dramatically as she held the door open let Booth into the house, following him into the living room. "Yeah, he's almost ready...he's looking for his shoes." Biting her lip as she absentmindedly folded Parker's jacket, she continued softly as she glanced toward Parker's bedroom. "Are you sure this outing is a good idea, Seeley?"

"Look, there's no way you're gonna back out of this plan now, Rebecca." Booth scowled as he shook his finger at her. "I'm gonna take him out for the day, and we're gonna go visit some museums and enjoy ourselves...just him and me, okay? His grades are good, and he can miss a day of school to spend some time with me before I leave on my upcoming deployment. After all, it's not like his elementary school is teaching him advanced physics or high school Latin, you know? I mean, he already knows how to read really well and he can do some pretty complicated math, so missing one day won't put him that far behind..."

Rebecca shook her head as she turned away from Booth. "That's not what I was talking about...not really. I mean, I don't like Parker to miss school without a good reason, but his teacher says he's doing well, and she told me what he'll be missing and what he should do to make it up. That's not the point." Rebecca sank down on the sofa and folded her hands stiffly in her lap as she watched an irritated Booth pace the room. "He's really bright, Seeley. He's going to know something is up since you've taken him out of school to spend time with you today, especially since you keep telling him how important it is to go to school every day and to do his best. If you're trying to keep him from worrying about you, you're not doing a very good job. He'll figure out soon enough that you're going away to take on some sort of dangerous assignment."

She leaned back on the couch and glared up at Booth, obviously annoyed with him as she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. "This is exactly why I decided we shouldn't get married all those years ago. You always manage to get yourself in some sort of dangerous situation, which makes Parker worried and upset when he hears about it. Then he doesn't sleep well and eventually his school work suffers. Sometimes he even acts out in class and he gets in trouble with his teacher. But you're never around to deal with that part of raising him, are you? You don't have to deal with his school work or his restless nights. You're too busy going off to some God-forsaken place to play soldier, trying to save the world, instead being concerned about how your own son is doing here at home."

"Don't even start with me, okay? I'm a good father to him, and you know it. I help him with school stuff, too, you know? If he needs to do homework while he's with me, he does it. And I've talked to Mrs. Duran whenever his behavior needs correcting, which isn't very often, by the way. You're not the only one who deals with that shit, so just drop it." Fuming with anger, Booth clenched his jaw as he forced himself to sound calm and reasonable. Exhaling slowly, he crossed his arms over his chest as he turned to his child's mother. "Anyway, if I remember correctly, Rebecca, I wanted to change our visitation arrangements last weekend to avoid having him miss school to begin with, but you couldn't figure out how to make that work with your own plans, right? You couldn't rearrange your schedule for me to have him last Saturday, so it has to be today, because I'm leaving tomorrow, and I'm not sure when I'll be home." Booth let out a frustrated sigh as his shoulders slumped slightly. "Look, I'll explain things to him so that he'll understand, okay? You don't have to worry about it. It'll be no skin off your ass..." Booth began to pace the room again, muttering to himself. "What's taking him so long, anyway? We've got things to do..."

However, Rebecca wasn't finished with her interrogation of Booth. Picking at her well manicured nails nervously, she watched as Booth continued to pace. "Does Hannah know what's going on with this trip? Not that it makes any difference, I suppose...you never cared what I thought about these projects, so why would you care what she thinks…"

"Seriously? You're gonna bring up Hannah now?" Rolling his eyes with disgust, Booth shook his head emphatically. "No, of course she doesn't know! You know we broke up…that was months ago. She doesn't have any more say about what goes on in my life. I'm done with her." He interrupted Rebecca as she started to speak again. "And no, I didn't take on this project because she broke up with me…it has nothing to do with her. That's over, okay? I took on this project because it needs to be done..."

"What about Temperance? You told her, too, didn't you?", Rebecca interrupted, glancing at Booth as she tried to gauge his reaction. "I can't imagine she's happy about you going on this little trip. She's going to be so worried about you while you're gone, Seeley, just like she was the last time you went overseas. I'm sure she spent many sleepless nights fretting about you while she was on that dig in Maluku." Rebecca studied her rings as she continued. "She's in love with you, Seeley...you know that, right? She has been for a long time."

"Yeah, actually, I do know that, Rebecca…" Booth tried unsuccessfully to contain his contented smile. "We've finally come to an understanding, me and Bones. I've admitted to her that the whole Hannah fiasco was a big mistake, and thank God, she found it in her heart to forgive me, and she's allowed me back into her life. I guess we've finally figured out just how much we love each other, and that we've both felt that way for a long time. When I get back home, we're finally gonna have the type of relationship that we were meant to have all along. She's gonna miss me while I'm gone, but she understands why I made the choice to take on this project. She knows it's important to me, and she supports my decision." _Unlike some people I know..._

"You'll be in a relationship with her _if_ you get to come back to her. That's the catch, isn't it? She has to worry about _if_ you're going to be able to come home to her so that you two can finally be together after all these years." Rebecca rose from the sofa and moved toward the hallway leading to Parker's room. "Parker, hurry up. Your dad's ready to go." Turning back to Booth, she shook her head sadly. "I'm glad we've been able to shelter our son from how dangerous your job with the FBI is, but it's much more difficult when you keep taking on these extra projects for the Army. I hope we can keep him from finding out what else you do in your spare time…how you keep putting yourself in the line of fire, trying to get yourself killed..."

"This isn't a suicide mission, Rebecca. You know I wouldn't do that to Parker. I wouldn't deliberately leave him fatherless..." Booth was interrupted by Parker's happy voice in the hallway.

"Hey, Dad!" Parker came bouncing into the family room where his parents had been talking, oblivious to the tension between them. "I'm ready to go…"

Smiling, Booth ruffled his son's hair as he handed Parker the car keys. "Great, Buddy. Grab your jacket and go get in the car. I'll be out in a minute. Make sure you fasten your seatbelt…"

"Okay…" Parker pressed the button on his father's keychain and unlocked the SUV before pulling on his father's arm. "Hurry up, Dad…you said we have a busy day planned."

"Hey, it's not my fault you couldn't find your shoes…" Watching as Parker ran out to the car, Booth turned to glare at Rebecca. "Look...I know my job is dangerous, and I know that this side work puts me in some tough situations, but that's what I do, and that's who I am. If that's why you didn't want to marry me, fine! More power to you if that's what makes you happy, but don't ever think you can keep my son from me because of the work I do. I'm proud to serve my country when they need me, even if it does mean I'm in danger from time to time, and I also want Parker to be proud of my service." Booth inhaled deeply to calm himself. "Listen, we'll probably have dinner with Bones, and then I'll bring Parker home in time for him to go to bed at a reasonable hour, alright? We gotta go…"

Rebecca chewed on her lip as she walked with him towards the door. "Seeley...I know you're going to be careful while you're gone taking care of your project, right? Nothing over the top? No heroics or unnecessary risks...please, Seeley..." She laid her hand on his arm with a gentle look of concern. "Take care of yourself...for Parker's sake…"

"Yeah, I'll be careful, but hey...don't worry about me." Booth shrugged Rebecca's hand away as he gave her a sarcastic grin. "Anyway, I made Bones the executor of my estate, so if anything happens to me, you can rest assured that Parker will get what's coming to him. See you later…" He slammed the door and walked out to his car.

As she stood at the window, watching them drive away, Rebecca sighed heavily. This conflict about Seeley taking on dangerous projects for the Army and for the FBI had been the basis for most of the trouble between them when they first started dating. She didn't want to worry about what he was doing every second of the day, and she didn't want to worry about her son to become fatherless at a very young age. She wasn't surprised to find that Seeley had made arrangements for Parker to be taken care of financially if he was killed on the job. That's the sort of man he was, taking care of those he loved, but Rebecca hoped she didn't have to find out what the exact arrangements were for a very long time.

Oooooooooo

"Why are we going this way, Dad?" Parker's nose was pressed against the car's window on the passenger side as he watched the scenery go by. "I thought you said we were going to the Air and Space Museum at the Jeffersonian."

"We are, but that's gonna be later today. The place we're going this morning is a surprise." Booth glanced at the rear view mirror as he changed lanes and exited the highway. "We're going to Chantilly, Virginia, to visit a different part of the Air and Space Museum. It's called the Udvar-Hazy Center. This part of the museum has two giant hangars with lots of different kinds of planes, and also some simulators we can try out. They've even got a SR 71 Blackbird that we can look at up close. Pretty cool, right?" Grinning as Parker nodded enthusiastically, Booth chuckled. "I thought you might like to see that. We can also go up in an observation tower and watch some planes take off and land. We're gonna look around here for a while and maybe have some lunch before we head back to town to visit the Air and Space Museum at the Jeffersonian for the rest of the day, and then we'll pick up Dr. Brennan. I promised her that we'd have dinner with her tonight."

An excited Parker bounced up and down in his seat. "I can't wait to get to the museum to see all those planes!" Parker tried to sit up enough in his seat to make himself taller. "I think I wanna be an Air Force pilot when I grow up or maybe an astronaut, but I don't think Mom likes those ideas…she gets all nervous and quiet when I mention it, and then she changes the subject and we have to talk about something else, but I don't know why. I think it looks like fun."

Booth nodded in understanding as he pulled the car into a parking place. "Well, your mom's job is to worry about you, and she's good at it, right? That's what moms do. She knows she can't keep you from growing up to be a man, but she's always gonna want to make sure you're safe, no matter how old you are or what you're doing for your job." Booth came around to help his son out of the car. "If you really want to be a pilot, I'm sure she'll be happy with that if you're happy."

"Mom worries about you, too, Dad. She told me so.", Parker said innocently as he skipped along the sidewalk leading up to the museum. "She says you still get in trouble like you were a big kid. Maybe she thinks you aren't grown up enough to be a man yet either."

"Yeah, maybe so. Who knows? Maybe someday I'll quit getting into trouble." Booth grimaced as he sighed softly. "Anyway, let's not worry about that right now. I just want to talk about what we're gonna do inside. I think you're gonna do great on those simulators, but I bet you're not gonna be better at flying in them than your old man is…I've had too much practice on Star Fox. You can't beat me..."

"Betcha I will be better than you, Dad! I'm gonna take that simulator on a loop de loop and then do some barrel rolls…" Parker and Booth both laughed happily as they entered the museum, chattering about what they were going to see and do while they were there.

Oooooooooo

"That IMAX movie about the aircraft carrier was so cool, Dad!" Parker made airplane sounds as he maneuvered his newly purchased model jet in for a landing on a railing around an exhibit. "I wanna do that someday...I wanna fly over the ocean and land on a big ship like that!"

The thought of his little boy trying to land a lightning fast fighter jet on the deck of a moving ship in the middle of the ocean was somewhat unnerving, but Booth nodded in agreement. "If that's what you wanna do, Buddy, that's great, but you're gonna have to work hard to get there."

"What kind of hard work?" Parker tilted his head as he studied his father, wondering if he was teasing. "How long will it take?"

"Well, you'll have to do really well in high school, and make sure to take a lot of math and science classes so that you can get into college and get your degree, maybe in science or some sort of computer stuff or engineering. After you graduate from college, you go to officer's candidate school and then to flight school. You'll have to be physically fit, too. You can't spend all day in front of the television playing video games, okay? You'll need to be strong."

"Maybe I can be as strong as you one day, Dad." Parker flexed his arms in a he man pose. "Maybe you can help me work out." He hesitated for a few seconds before continuing softly. "And maybe Dr. Brennan can help me with my math and science…"

"Maybe so. I'd like to help you with your dream to fly planes, and I bet Bones would, too." Booth grinned at Parker. "You know, there's been a lot of Booths in the military. It's kind of a family tradition. Pops' father, my great grandfather Booth, was in the Army, just like Pops and his brother, my Great Uncle Jake, and then me, too. Your Uncle Jared used to be in the Navy." Not wanting to divulge the full history of Jared's discharge, he coughed softly as they moved on to look at the Space Station exhibit. "If you wanna be a pilot, you have to be smart and be able to think quick, okay? A lot of things can happen while you're up there in the sky…" Pausing, Booth was lost in thought for a few seconds until Parker pulled on his arm.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Hey, let's rest here for a minute." Booth nodded toward a nearby bench, and they sat down. "You may not know this, but your grandfather was a pilot in the Air Force…"

"I thought you said Pops was in the Army." Parker's furrowed brow gave away his confusion. "He told me he was an MP."

"Not Pops. He's my grandfather...your great grandfather. No, I'm talking about my dad, the man who's actually your grandfather. He was a pilot in during the war in VietNam. He flew Phantoms and Thuds…F4s and Thunderchiefs. Fighter jets." Booth cringed inwardly as he realized he might've brought up a topic that would've been better left untouched. "But that was a long time ago…"

"Is he still alive? How come I've never met him, Dad?" Giving his father a quizzical look, Parker scratched his head as he thought through this new bit of information. "Maybe he could tell me about the Air Force and how to be a pilot. Maybe I could be like him..."

"Nah...He's been sick for a long time, Buddy, and he hasn't felt like having visitors." That wasn't exactly the truth, but it was going to have to do for the moment. "Anyway, things were different then. He didn't have to go to college, but you'll need to..." _Someday I'll have to tell him everything, but not today. I'm not gonna let anything ruin today._ He reached down to pat his son's shoulder. "I tell you what...after I get back from my trip, if you want, maybe you and me can go talk to a guy I know at the Pentagon, and he can tell you all about being a pilot, okay? He flies for the Army, so isn't quite the same as the Air Force, but I guess when you get right down to it, it doesn't make any difference whose plane it is, right?"

"Prob'ly not." Parker felt the slight change in his father's demeanor, but he could also tell that the discussion was ended. "I don't care who I fly planes for, as long as I get to fly."

"Good. So it's a plan, right?" Wanting to change the subject, Booth pointed to another exhibit. "Hey, look at that simulator...it shows what it'd be like to fly one of those old biplanes. Let's go check it out."

Oooooooooo

After a few more hours of exploring the museum, it was time for lunch. Booth walked across the restaurant, carrying a tray of food to the table where Parker was waiting impatiently as he noisily sipped his drink. "I'm really hungry, Dad. Did you get us some extra fries?"

"Yeah. We've got plenty of stuff to eat..." Setting the tray on the table, Booth handed Parker his burger and fries. "Here you go. You know, tonight we're gonna go have Italian food with Dr. Brennan, so you probably need to save room for some spaghetti…"

"I'm glad we're having dinner with Dr. Brennan. I've missed seeing her. It seems like it's been years since I talked to her...since before Hannah was around, I guess." Parker ate his hamburger in silence for a few minutes before he continued, eying his father thoughtfully. "Dad, can I ask you a question about Hannah, and you not be mad at me?"

 _Jesus...Hannah again? How long am I gonna pay for that mistake?_ Swallowing hard, Booth hesitated slightly before he nodded in agreement. "Of course, Buddy. You know you can ask me anything…"

Parker smiled as he sipped his drink. "Yeah, I know. Anyway, I was wondering...now that Hannah's gone, Dad, don't you think you should try to get Dr. Brennan to go out with you? I think she likes you. I bet if you asked her out, she'd say yes. I don't think she'd laugh at you or make you feel dumb or anything like that, so you wouldn't hafta feel bad if she said no, but I'm pretty sure she'd say yes." Parker dragged some french fries through a puddle of ketchup and took a bite. "I think she wants to be your girlfriend, Dad. You just gotta be brave enough to ask her..."

"Really? You really think she likes me?" Booth quirked his eyebrow at his son. "Are you really trying to give your old man advice on girls?"

Parker shrugged as he studied his sandwich. "Well...yeah, I guess so. It seems like you might need some help with them, you know, since you don't have a girlfriend now..."

Booth laughed out loud. "I see. So we're talking man to man now, right? Just what makes you qualified to give me advice about Dr. Brennan?" Grinning at Parker in amusement, he took a bite of his burger. "You got a girlfriend?"

"Yeah." Parker blushed slightly as he told his dad about his sweetheart. "Her name's Cassandra, but I call her Cassie. She's in my class at school. She's smart and she's real pretty, and she's got green eyes and black hair, and she shares her cookies with me at lunch. Sometimes she gives me a pencil if I need one to do my math problems, and she lends me paper if I'm out. I like her a lot, and she seems to like me okay, too, so one day I asked her to be my girlfriend, and she said yes. I think we might get married someday."

 _I wonder how much easier my life would've been if I'd just looked for a pretty girl who shared things with me..._ Booth nodded, listening as Parker happily described Cassie. "Well, I'm glad you've got a nice girlfriend. It seems like you may be able to give me some advice on women after all. I tell you what...at dinner tonight, if I'm feeling brave, I'll ask Dr. Brennan to be my girlfriend. How about that? Maybe you can help me think about what I should say to her." _I hope it goes better than when I took that stupid advice from Sweets about asking her to be my girlfriend…_

"Okay. Well, I think you just gotta tell her that you love her and you don't want her to be anybody else's girlfriend. That's what I did, even though I was kinda nervous, and it worked on Cassie...she even said she loved me back, and that made me feel kinda funny inside, but kinda good at the same time. It was sorta like riding a big roller coaster, you know? It was like my stomach was jumping up and down." Parker ate another handful of french fries. "It's hard to explain."

Laughing softly at his son's apt description, Booth agreed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. A pretty girl can do that to a guy, right? Make him feel all jumbled up inside?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Parker grinned for a minute, but his smile slowly faded as he took a bite of his sandwich. "Can I ask you another question, Dad?"

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you, Sport?" Booth popped a fry into his mouth. "Okay, what's up?"

Avoiding eye contact with his father, Parker took another sip of his drink and fidgeted with his sandwich wrapper. "Are you gonna be doing something scary on your trip, Dad? Mom's been real nervous about it since you told her you had to be gone for so long."

Wadding up his napkin, Booth grimaced slightly as he tried once again to explain the reason for his trip to Parker. "I gotta go do what they call 'maneuvers' with the Rangers. Listen, you know how I try to catch bad guys here in the DC area?" Parker nodded, still somewhat unconvinced. "Well, the Rangers are gonna train me to do that in other places, too, so I have to be gone for a while to learn that stuff, but I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."

"But why do you have to go somewhere else to do that? Why can't they train you here in America?" Parker frowned as he twirled more fries in his ketchup puddle. "When you came home from Afghanistan last time you said you wouldn't have to be gone any more, remember?"

"I know, but I have to learn to do things in different places so I can be prepared for new situations here at home. It's kind of like a field trip at school, you know? You can stay at school to learn stuff, but it's more fun to go different places to learn stuff, right?" Parker nodded sullenly. "So I'm going on a field trip, only it's gonna take a little longer than a regular field trip, and it's not gonna be as much fun. Trust me, Parker...I don't really want to be away from home and away from you for very long, but sometimes even grown ups have to do things we don't wanna do. Anyway, I'll probably be home for Christmas, alright?" Booth started to pick up the wrappers from their lunch. "Okay, enough man to man talk. Are you ready to go to the Jeffersonian's Air and Space Museum in DC and check out what kind of cool stuff they have there?"

Nodding, a slightly subdued Parker wiped his mouth with his napkin and picked up the tray. "Yep, let's go, Dad.

Oooooooooo

After enjoying an afternoon at the Air and Space wing of the Jeffersonian, Booth and Parker had taken Brennan out for dinner at Rigoletto's. Booth gave her an embarrassed smile as they pulled into the parking lot. "I know we just ate here Sunday night, but it's Parker's favorite place…"

"It's quite alright, Booth. There are several vegetarian entrees on the menu that I'd like to try." She smiled as she gave Parker a gentle squeeze as she tousled his hair. "Anyway, it's nice to have such good company, so I don't care where we have dinner, as long as we're all together."

They enjoyed their meals and each other's company as they sat at their candlelit table. Booth and Brennan exchanged contented smiles as they listened to Parker chatter happily about all the different airplanes and spacecraft they'd seen at the two museums that day. He especially enjoyed bragging about how he'd bested his dad on the various simulators.

"I can do a lot more loops than Dad!", he laughed. "Dad kept crashing."

"Maybe so, but I won the dog fight on the biplane, right?" Booth grinned as he winked at Brennan. "Just call me the Red Baron."

After they'd ordered their dessert, Brennan excused herself so she could freshen up in the ladies' room.

"Dad!" Parker glared at his father as he whispered furiously. "You're supposed to ask Dr. Brennan to be your girlfriend tonight while we're here at dinner! Did you forget?"

"No, of course not!", Booth whispered back, pursing his lips as he scratched his chin. "I'm just trying to think of the right words to say at just the right time, you know? I guess I'm nervous! It's not like I do this kind of thing everyday." He gave Parker a serious look. "Do you really think it's a good idea to ask her here in public? I mean, what if she says no? That would make me pretty sad, and I don't wanna cry in front of everybody..."

Parker rolled his eyes dramatically, wondering once again how his father could possibly be so lame. "Yes! It's a good idea! I know she isn't gonna say no. C'mon, Dad...I think she likes you a lot, okay? You just have to trust me...shhh...here she comes!" Trying to act innocent, Parker smiled brightly as Brennan returned to the table. "Oh, hi, Dr. Brennan…"

"Hey, Bones." Booth cleared his throat nervously after Parker pointedly nudged him with an elbow. Inhaling deeply, Booth began his little speech. "I want to ask you about something real important. I was wondering…" At that moment, Giorgio, the restaurant's owner, who was a personal friend of Booth's, came to their table with their extra large servings of tiramisu, setting the desserts on the table as he nattered on about the weather, the restaurant's new decor, his favorite recipes, and whether or not they'd enjoyed their meal. After what seemed to be an hour of fussing over his guests, he finally left them to to enjoy their sweet treats. "Anyway, Bones…" Booth reached across the table and took her hand in his. "I was hoping...I mean, um, I'd like it if you'd be my, you know...maybe you'd want to...be my girlfriend..." Booth glanced at Parker, who grinned as he gave his father a big thumbs up.

Brennan looked at Booth in confusion, and started to ask why he was acting so strangely, when she saw his eyes quickly flick toward Parker. Booth gave her a sly wink and an almost imperceptible nod, and it dawned on her what was happening. "Oh, this is so sudden and unexpected...let me think about it, Booth." Smiling shyly, Brennan took a bite of her dessert and hesitated for a few seconds before she responded. "Of course, I'll be your girlfriend, Booth! I'm so happy! I thought you'd never ask!"

Bouncing in his seat, Parker beamed happily at his father. "See, Dad? Told ya…all you had to do was ask..."

oooooooooo

Clad only in his boxers, Booth groaned as he stretched out on the bed in Brennan's apartment, perfectly content to watch her as she brushed her hair and took off her jewelry before she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped out of her slacks. "God, I'm exhausted, Bones. I guess with everything we saw at the two museums, Parker and I must've walked five miles today...but it was worth it to get to spend the day with him. I can't believe how much he packed away at dinner tonight. I know he loves spaghetti, but he must've set some sort of record for the most pounds of pasta eaten by a kid his age."

Brennan smiled as she crawled into bed next to Booth and embraced him tenderly. "I'm glad Parker convinced you that you should ask me to be your girlfriend while we were at dinner tonight…" She twitched her eyebrow at him. "...even though technically, I already was your girlfriend…"

"Yeah, but Parker didn't know that, and he was thrilled that I actually took his advice, wasn't he? Thanks for playing along with that little scene, Bones. I appreciate it…" Booth kissed Brennan gently. "I love how good you are to him…"

"I have to admit...I'm very attached to Parker. I've missed him very much over the last several months." Brennan snuggled next to Booth, putting her arm around him. "I'm glad you both had such a good time today…"

"The memories we made today are gonna last a long time, you know? Parker says he wants to be a pilot, and after watching his face light up today when he saw those planes, I think things might just turn out that way. He might even join the Air Force…" Pulling Brennan close, Booth chuckled softly. "But enough about that right now. I think I want us to fly in a different way tonight, okay?" He turned off the lamp on the nightstand. "I think it's time for us to spend some serious time together as boyfriend and girlfriend before I leave tomorrow. I know...let's play a game. I'll be the pilot, and you can be the flight attendant..."

"Are you sure you're not too tired, Booth? After all, you did have a very long day...", Brennan began primly.

Booth shook his head and twitched his eyebrow at her as he began caressing her gently. "I'll never be too tired to make love to you, Bones…"

Brennan giggled as she rolled over on top of him. "Good, because I think you're right! Let's not waste any more time…it's time for this flight to take off...but I'd rather think of us as co-pilots instead. That way I can take over the flight and be in charge occasionally..."

Sighing happily, he nodded in agreement as he pulled her close. "Whatever you say, Bones...whatever you say…"

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Thanks for reading. I know things seem like they're moving a bit slowly in the story right now, but that's the way real life works, too. Things will pick up dramatically soon enough. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Laura**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews. They are appreciated.**_

 ** _I have tried to make this a work of realistic fiction, but I may tweak things from time to time. If there isn't such a thing as a military lounge for people to wait with their loved ones before they leave for deployment, I think there should be._**

 ** _Just a reminder...this story is AU._**

 ** _And, in the interest of fairness, I'm issuing a tissue alert for this chapter..._**

* * *

The alarm sounded much too early on Wednesday morning for Booth's liking. He was enjoying the comforting stillness of the quiet apartment as he lay in bed, peacefully holding Brennan in his arms as she ran her fingers in gentle circles across his bare chest. Closing his eyes, he sighed softly, wanting to burn this one perfect moment into his mind before his separation from her began today, knowing that this wonderful memory would have to last him at least six weeks...six very lonely weeks. He was already beginning to miss her. Thinking about that separation was almost unbearable, but he'd made a commitment to do a job and it was too late to back out now. He pulled her closer, wanting to linger just a few minutes more...five minutes more of her gentle touch...of her warmth...of her love...

"Booth?", Brennan whispered softly, moaning with pleasure as he stroked her satiny skin with his deft fingers. "Perhaps we should get ready for the day…"

"Hmm? What time is it?" He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling its delicate scent, not wanting to move. "I think we've got plenty of time before we gotta get up, right? I think we can stay in bed a little while longer..."

"I don't think that's a good idea.", she laughed. "It's eight, and you said you had to be at the airport by noon. Don't you want some breakfast?" Brennan pulled away from him slightly and grinned up at him, tracing her finger across his dimpled smile. "I'd imagine that all of your exertions while you were making love to me last night and this morning have made you quite famished."

"Well, yeah...maybe I am a little hungry…" Booth started to nuzzle her neck and nibble her ear. "...but I don't think it's bacon and eggs I'm hungry for…" Rolling over on top of her, he kissed her and gently caressed her shoulders and breasts. "I think maybe I'm in the mood for something more substantial…" After lavishing kisses all over her body, he gave her a suggestive wink. "...or maybe I just need a little sugar to keep me satisfied…"

Brennan giggled as he kissed the base of her throat. "I suppose indulging in some sucrose might be satisfactory for the moment…"

Oooooooooo

It was 9:30, and Brennan was sitting on her sofa, scrolling through the email on her laptop as she sipped her hot tea. It was a chilly morning, and she shivered slightly as she pulled her gray striped cardigan sweater around her. Glancing at the time again, she started to call toward the bedroom to see if Booth was ready, but then decided against it. He'd let her know when it was time to go, and she was in no hurry to make him leave.

Brennan worked through her messages once again, trying without much success to concentrate as she quickly read through the usual invitations to speak at university commencements and academic convocations, but her mind kept wandering far afield as she thought back to the day Booth had come to see her at the airport right before she boarded the flight that would take her to Maluku.

At the time, she wasn't sure he'd come to see her off, but looking back now, she realized she never had a reason to doubt him. He might've been unhappy about her decision to be a part of an expedition on the far side of the world, but he'd never let her leave without saying goodbye.

She could still remember catching sight of him in the busy airport. He'd looked so handsome in his fatigues as he came striding across the concourse toward her, and she distinctly remembered how her heart rate had accelerated when she saw him standing there before her...tall, masculine, strong...the ultimate alpha male...a man on a mission. It had seemed illogical at that moment, but it was if they were the only two people in the airport. Everything else...all the noise and bustle associated with a crowded public place...it all seemed to fade into the background as he expressed his concern for her safety on her trip, telling her to be careful, even though he was the one who'd be in real danger while he was gone. He had taken her hand in his and had looked deep into her eyes, as if he was trying to tell her something without saying any words. They'd made plans to meet at the coffee cart on the Mall a year later, when they were both finished with their overseas journeys, and then they'd reluctantly parted. It was as if neither of them wanted to be the first to let go. One last glance...and he had walked away toward what awaited him in Afghanistan...and then she had quickly walked in the other direction, hoping to make anthropological history in Maluku. Why was it that they were always walking away from each other?

Brennan had realized at the time that she'd worry tremendously about Booth while they were apart, but she had been unprepared for the intensity of those feelings. However, he was a grown man, making the choice to serve his country, and all she could do for him, as his friend, was to support his decision...to ask him to be careful...to remind him to avoid being a hero if at all possible. That being said, she'd also known that he was not a man to do his job halfway. He'd do exactly what he felt was necessary to keep the people of the area where he was serving safe from harm, even at the risk of his own life...just like he would do on this upcoming deployment.

The last time he left, he'd promised he'd be careful while he was there, but, as usual, he'd jumped into the fray feet first and had put himself in several risky situations. To compound matters, he'd tried to pretend he'd never been in danger when he'd discussed his tour of duty with her, only acknowledging the truth later, when Hannah let slip the real story of how she'd met Booth as he rescued her from some dangerous crossfire in a dusty Afghan village square. It had been a painful shock when Brennan had discovered just how close Booth had come to being severely injured, or even perhaps killed, in order to save the war correspondent's life. It had taken her several weeks to forgive him for what she perceived as a lie on his part...and perhaps even longer to forgive him for his romantic involvement with Hannah.

It was all too easy for Brennan to remember the searing pain she'd felt when she first found out that Booth was involved romantically with the reporter, even though she knew he'd had every right to move on. That's what he'd said he would do that evening in front of the Hoover, and he was a man of his word. She had no right to expect any other considerations from him, but that didn't prevent her from being upset. She knew her feelings had been irrational...but that didn't make them less intense.

Grumbling to herself, she tried to ignore those troublesome thoughts as she turned back to the task at hand, skimming through another request to speak at a commencement ceremony, but her mind was restless, taking a U turn back to the situation between Hannah and Booth. Brennan couldn't help but recall her warning to Hannah about how committed Booth would be to their relationship. Hannah must've accepted his wedding proposal with that idea in mind, knowing how much he cared for her, but in the end, she couldn't go through with the wedding, much to Booth's extreme disappointment…

...and to Brennan's great relief. She shook her head, wondering what Hannah could possibly consider as being a better offer than marrying Booth. _I can't imagine why she'd leave Booth, but I must admit...I'm very glad she did…very thankful, indeed..._

She opened another email asking her to co author an article about variations in bone density, but she still found it hard to focus as she pondered the reasons Hannah had rejected Booth. It was true that there was no accounting for taste or for the biological causes of physical attraction, but it was truly remarkable to think that Hannah could possibly have chosen to leave Booth for someone else. He was definitely a desirable man, having an extraordinary amount of symmetry in his facial features and an extremely pleasant, well muscled physique, which indicated the abundant production of testosterone. He was also intelligent, a good provider and a fierce protector, a remarkably fulfilling sex partner, and he had excellent parenting skills.

All in all, Booth would be considered a superior mate by almost any standard, but it seemed Hannah had other qualifications in mind for her romantic partner. _Her loss is definitely my gain._ Smiling in satisfaction, Brennan nodded as she quickly typed a response to the email. _That part of our history is now behind us, and we don't have to worry about Hannah any more_. She was grateful to have a second chance at happiness with Booth. It was time to move forward to their future together...

Brennan sighed as she thought about the new project Booth was about to undertake. He was deliberately putting himself in harm's way again, but this time she didn't have an archaeological dig to distract her from thinking about what he would be doing while he was gone. All she had was the book she was presently working on. She looked through her correspondence again, wondering if she should agree to do a few speaking engagements or possibly look for some academic articles to co author or to review. _Maybe I'll talk to Cam about returning from my sabbatical early...I need to stay occupied..._

After spending so much time with Booth the last few days, however, she knew that wouldn't be enough to keep her from dwelling on all of the possible dangers surrounding his mission. She would have to trust that he was well prepared for whatever he'd face while he was gone. As much as she wanted him to stay with her...to forego this mission so that they could be together...she also knew that he was the most honorable man she'd ever met. If he'd made a commitment to undertake this project, he'd do everything in his power to fulfill it, even at the expense of his personal or emotional well-being. That strength of character was one of Booth's finest and most endearing qualities, and she admired him greatly for it, even if it did mean that he'd be away from home for awhile.

She was reading through an article by a colleague that had been emailed to her for her comments when her phone rang. She glanced at her phone but no ID came up on the screen. Shrugging in slight irritation, she answered anyway. "Brennan…"

"Good morning, Temperance. How are you this fine morning? Doing well, I hope." The man snickered sarcastically at her frustrated groan. "Nice to hear your voice, too. Hey, you're hurting my feelings with all that moaning and groaning, although it does make me think of sex, so thanks for that. Don't you want to talk to me anymore, Honey? I thought we were friends…"

"We are not friends…actually, we've never been friends." Gritting her teeth, Brennan glared at her computer screen as she responded to the annoying voice on the other end of the call. "I've asked you to stop calling me, Rick. I'm not interested in pursuing any sort of relationship with you…" She started to hang up when she heard his next comment.

"That's okay...I'll forgive you. Anyway, I know your new boyfriend is getting ready to leave town for a few months, and I'll still be here to pick up the pieces while he's gone. You're going to be so lonely, aren't you, baby? Who's gonna scratch that little itch you're gonna have while he's gone? I know...I'll volunteer for that job. How's that? You'd like to try that, right? I bet you'd like having me between your legs. I know I'd love it, too. I'm quite talented in that regard. It would only take me a few minutes to make you purr...or scream..." Rick chuckled mirthlessly as he heard her scoff in disgust. "You don't really believe he's coming back home to you, do you? Don't you know a player's line when you hear one, Tempe? He's just using you to get a little action before his trip…you know, to tide him over until he can find another pretty girl to hook up with wherever he's going. It's a story that's been around since mankind first engaged in warfare. I'm sure there must be some sort of Greek myth about it, right? The lonely soldier tells a girl he loves her to get a piece of ass before a battle, and then he deserts her the first chance he gets?"

She shook her head as her grip tightened around her phone. "I don't know what you're talking about. My personal relationships are none of your business…"

"Whatever, Tempe. Just remember what I said when your loverboy doesn't come home when he's supposed to. Booth's a tomcat…He must have at least a dozen girlfriends…all shapes and sizes, too, although most of them do seem to be blonde, unlike his present squeeze..."

"I mean it! Don't call me again, or I'll report you to the police for harassing me. No more, Rick. Goodbye." Brennan hung up the phone and tossed it onto the side table, wondering how the man knew what was going on with Booth. It was quite strange...there was no way he'd be able to find out her new relationship with Booth or about his trip...unless maybe the man had been stalking her somehow...

But then, her whole relationship with Rick Carothers had been quite strange. He had shown up at the Jeffersonian one day, consulting on some sort of security review for the museum's latest temporary exhibit. He was an attractive man, not tall, but well built, with glossy black hair and hazel eyes. The officer in charge of the building's security had brought Rick to the lab so he could see how their security system operated, and he'd struck up a casual conversation with the world famous forensic anthropologist.

Annoyed with herself, Brennan's nose wrinkled in disdain. She'd been impressed by Rick's intellect, but something about him had bothered her from the first time she'd met him. It wasn't rational, but it was true. After all, she had no facts to base her feelings on, but she couldn't shake the idea that there was an undercurrent of insincerity in all of his interactions with her.

He'd also befriended Angela, and it wasn't long before the artist had made an effort to nudge Rick and her best friend together, hoping that Brennan would be able to finally get over Booth's involvement with Hannah. Sighing to herself, Brennan shook her head, wishing she'd been strong enough to withstand the onslaught of Angela's matchmaking suggestions. In the end, she'd caved in and accepted Rick's persistent offer to go out for dinner.

She shuddered at the memory of that date. He had made Brennan very uncomfortable, making it clear that he was very interested in her physically, but not emotionally. Everything they talked about seemed to end up back on the same topic, with him suggesting that it was time for them consummate their relationship, much to her disgust. She had complained about it to Angela, who had assured her that she had simply misread his intentions, suggesting that she give Rick at least one more chance. Unfortunately, the second and third date were the same...a lot of sexual innuendo that soon darkened into blatant solicitations for sexual intercourse, and she had decided not to see him again.

There had been a time in her life when simply satisfying biological urges would've been reason enough to engage in a tryst with Rick, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. At the time she'd thought it was only because he wasn't Booth...and given what she knew now, realizing that she'd been in love with Booth for many years, it made sense that she would refuse the man, no matter how interesting he might be. However, it seemed perhaps there was something more to it. As illogical as it was, it seemed she had felt an instinctual dislike for Rick...it was as if there was something sinister and disturbing about him. He seemed to generate an immediate, innate feeling of distrust in her, and after making an effort to get past those feelings, she'd decided to end things with him, much to Angela's dismay. Unfortunately, it appeared that Rick was unwilling to take NO for an answer.

She wondered if she should mention the phone call to Booth, but he already had so much to worry about with Parker and in making all the other arrangements necessary to be gone on this assignment...surely there was nothing to worry about…it was just Rick being his usual disgusting self. _Rick is such a pig...why did I let Angela talk me into going out with him? She said he was harmless..._

Booth's voice roused her from her musings. "Okay, I think I'm ready to go." He picked up his large duffle bag and his smaller carry on bag from their spot in the corner of the foyer. "And guess what? We still have time for breakfast…" Seeing that Brennan looked agitated as she glanced at her phone, he hesitated slightly. "Who was on the phone? Why are you so angry?"

"I'm not angry. It's nothing, really...just a persistent wrong number who keeps calling me." Brennan inhaled sharply as she took in Booth's striking appearance. "I'm surprised to see you in your fatigues…" Trying to control her sadness, she bit her lip as she stood up to put her computer on the kitchen counter. "You look very nice…"

"Yeah, of course I'm wearing my fatigues. Colonel Randall wants me to look like any other soldier getting ready to go on maneuvers...hey, what's wrong?" Realizing that she was upset, Booth walked over and took Brennan into his arms. "Look, Bones, I'm gonna be fine...I'll be home before you know it, okay?"

She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him as he rubbed her back, unwilling to let him go. "I'm sorry. I know it's not rational for me to have such an emotional response to these particular articles of clothing, but earlier this morning I was thinking about when you came to see me at the airport before I left for the Maluku dig all those months ago, and then I remembered everything that happened afterward...my feelings seemed to wash over me like a tsunami, and I couldn't help it..." She sniffled slightly as she wiped her eyes. Patting him on the chest, she nodded resolutely. "I'm okay...really, I'm okay." Brennan closed her laptop and picked up her phone. "Look at the time. We need to get you some breakfast." She tried to smile as she shouldered her purse. "Let's go…"

Oooooooooo

"Okay, Sergeant Major Booth, you're all checked in for this flight. Your bag will be checked through to your next flight." The ticketing clerk put Booth's large duffle bag on the conveyor belt so it could be loaded on the plane. "Here's your boarding pass. They'll be able to give you more information in the military lounge. Good luck, sir, and thank you for your service."

"Yeah, thanks." Booth walked away from the airport's ticket counter and joined Brennan as she stood by an information kiosk. "I'm all set. The guy at the counter said we can wait in the military lounge over on concourse A. We get to bypass the security screening lines..." He took her hand and they walked slowly through the busy airport, oblivious to the admiring glances from the people watching the handsome soldier and his beautiful girlfriend, until they arrived at the double doors marked _Authorized Military Personnel Only._ The man at the podium nodded as Booth produced his military ID and waved them through.

"Check in with Corporal Standish, and she'll get you taken care of. Good luck, Sergeant Major…"

Nodding slightly in acknowledgement, Booth held the door open for Brennan and followed her in. Corporal Standish was a petite woman in an Army uniform standing behind the information counter. She smiled as Booth approached and held out his boarding pass for her inspection. "Let's see here…" She accessed some information on her computer. "You're taking ESA Flight 217 to Atlanta, departing Concourse A, Gate 19. Okay, Sergeant Major, you've been cleared for departure. You can wait here, and I'll let you know when it's time to board. Help yourself to the coffee or some water…there's all sorts of snacks in the vending machines..."

"Thanks." Booth and Brennan found a bank of chairs by a large wall of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the runways and sat down. Checking his watch, Booth sighed as he pulled out his laptop from his carry on bag and logged on to it. "I want to make sure I've got your email addresses right, okay? Here's your personal one, and this is the one for the Jeffersonian, right?"

"Yes." Brennan nodded as she watched a plane take off from the farthest runway. "Do you think you'll be able to email me from time to time while you're away? I'd like that very much."

"I can't promise anything, really. There's gonna be a lot going on. Wait a minute...there we go. I just sent you a message from my military email account so you'd have that address." Booth shrugged as he pulled up the picture of the two of them that was taken just the past Sunday at Rock Creek Park, and then some pictures of Brennan and Parker together, taken while they were having dinner at Rigoletto's. "Access to the internet will be hit and miss, I think, depending on where I am, but I'll try to send you an email here and there, and I'll definitely send one as soon as I know when I'm on the way home." Booth grinned as he pointed to the computer screen. "I really like this picture of the two of you together. Listen...maybe if you have time you could call Parker every so often...you know, if you don't think it's too weird. I'm sure Rebecca won't care, and Parker would love hearing from you…and don't forget to call Pops...maybe check on him occasionally. He's crazy about you, okay? He'd love it..."

Shutting down his computer, Booth put it back in his bag and reached over to take Brennan's hand in his, staring out the airport's big picture window as a plane touched down gently on the runway. "As soon as my plane leaves the airport here, I'm considered to be on active duty status, and it may be quite a while before you hear from me again, but that doesn't mean I won't be thinking of you, because I will be, Bones...I'll be thinking of you every single moment I'm awake, and I'm pretty sure I'll be dreaming about you when I sleep…"

"I know, although I'd prefer that you concentrate on your task while you're awake, instead of on me." Brennan smiled faintly as she leaned against Booth, snuggling close as he put his arm around her. "I'll be thinking of you, too…"

Fidgeting with the strap on his bag, Booth cleared his throat nervously, avoiding eye contact with Brennan. "Listen, I think maybe you ought to go see Sweets while I'm gone...especially if something unexpected happens. You might need some help to move on with your life, you know? I mean, I'd want you to be happy someday, even if I don't make it home..."

Rolling her eyes in disgust, Brennan pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest, indignant at the suggestion. "Sweets? Why would I go see him? I'm perfectly capable of dealing with your absence on my own, Booth." Clenching her jaw, Brennan glared at Booth. "I don't need Sweets to study my emotional responses while you're gone, and even though I'm expecting you to return quickly, I don't anticipate that I would need any help from him if you can't…"

"That's not what I meant, Bones." Booth sighed, trying to figure out how to explain to his very independent girlfriend that she might need some emotional support if things took a bad turn. "Look, when a group of soldiers are deployed for active duty, their wives and girlfriends sometimes lean on each other for friendship and comfort, but you don't really have a support group like that in case you needed help coping with things, especially since you're not working..."

Brennan was unconvinced. "I have Angela. She's always been very supportive…we have lunch once a week to talk over things that are occurring in our lives. I find her to be a very good listener."

"You're right, but you can't really tell Angela everything that's going on about my project, and anyway, she's gonna be really busy with the new baby, right?"

"Yes, of course...she'll be trying to adjust to all the changes in her life brought on by caring for a newborn." Brennan nodded as she listened, grimacing slightly as she realized Booth was probably correct. "I see...maybe you have a point…"

"Sweets doesn't know everything, either, but if you need someone to talk to, I think he'd be willing to listen. It's just a suggestion. I know you may not have a lot of time to see him since you're gonna be busy with finishing your book."

"That's true. I hope to complete my novel while you're gone so I can focus on adjusting to the new aspects of our relationship when you return." Seeing Booth's goofy grin, Brennan was confused. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He put his arm around her again and rubbed her arm. "Oh, no reason, Bones...except it makes me really happy to hear you talk about me and you being together like that...like a couple of people in love with each other, ready to face the future together…"

"It makes me very happy as well, Booth." Brennan leaned against him, laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm very excited to explore what that means for us after you return."

He laughed as he kissed the top of her head. "Well, just so you know, I'm planning on this relationship being a permanent thing, so you may have a lot of exploring to do." Booth arched his eyebrow suggestively. "I think we still have a lot of things to learn about each other."

Brennan grinned as she embraced him. "And I'm looking forward to being well educated by you, Booth…"

He chuckled softly as they watched a plane pull away from its gate. "Hey, you wanna hear something funny? I think Colonel Randall already thinks we're married. When I went to see him on Monday, I think he checked the wrong box by mistake, so you know what that means, right? If the Army thinks it's so, we gotta make it so…we gotta get married..." He smiled to himself as he waited for her reaction, knowing how irked she'd be, and he wasn't disappointed.

Brennan's eyes blazed as she glared at her boyfriend. "That's ridiculous, Booth! I don't need a piece of paper to prove that I'm committed to you, and, anyway, what difference would it make to the Army?" Seeing Booth's silly smile, she finally realized he was teasing her. "I guess it really doesn't make any difference, does it?"

"I don't know. I mean, you're basically listed as my next of kin, so I guess the Army's alright with us living together even if we're not married. They don't care. I guess we can be common law domestic partners or something like that. Hopefully, we don't have to find out what the Army thinks." He gave her a big grin. "I guess we can see if we can go find a chaplain somewhere around here and make it official…"

"I don't think that's necessary, do you?", she asked in an annoyed tone. "I don't need someone to say some silly words over us to prove I care for you…"

"Probably not necessary, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like for it happen someday…maybe after I get home. That would be a nice Christmas present." He twitched his eyebrow at her as he flashed his dimples, making her laugh in spite of her irritation. "Speaking of Christmas, I'm gonna send you a list of things for Parker and for Pops, and maybe you can do my shopping for me so I don't have to mess with it when I get home…"

They talked together quietly for a few more minutes until Corporal Standish walked over to where they were sitting and spoke quietly. "Your plane is boarding now, sir. Your wife can walk with you part of the way to the concourse. You've got about twenty minutes…"

"Thanks, Corporal." Sighing, Booth stood up and gathered his belongings as he grimaced slightly. I guess it's time to go…" He tried to smile to lighten the mood as they left the lounge. "See? You heard what she said. I told you the Army thinks we're married…"

Brennan and Booth walked hand in hand down a long narrow hallway until it intersected with the main concourse from which Booth's flight was departing. "Okay, the gate's down there, so this is it...I gotta go now." He kissed her passionately and smiled as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I love you so much, Bones. I always have...you know that, right? No matter what happens from here on out, always remember that, okay? I've always loved you…and I always will."

She sniffled slightly before putting on a brave smile. "I'll remember, Booth. I love you, too. Please don't be a hero this time. Just do your job and come home safely. Please be careful, and come back to me as soon as you can."

"I will. I promise I'll be careful, and I'll be home as soon as I can. I'll see you soon. I love you..." He caressed her cheek and kissed her again, and then, after one last loving look, he turned and jogged down the concourse toward his gate.

Brennan stood in the middle of the concourse, ignoring the people that streamed around her as they moved toward their destinations, focused only on watching Booth as he moved toward his gate. It wasn't until he was no longer visible in the crowds of departing passengers that she finally allowed the hot tears to stream down her face. She turned and slowly walked down the concourse toward the parking lot, unhappy at the aspect of going home to her empty apartment. Booth had been right. She would need a support group to keep her logical mind from straying into all of the worst case scenarios her intelligent brain could postulate. The problem would be where to find that group...

Oooooooooo

Booth boarded the small regional jet and quickly stowed his small bag under the seat in front of him. He leaned back in his seat, and, closing his eyes, silently prayed to all the saints he could think of, asking them to watch over his Bones while he was gone, and for a safe and successful mission. He tried to focus his mind on his project as the plane went racing down the runway, ready to take him toward whatever fate awaited him in the wild, rugged mountains of Afghanistan.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading. More soon. If you have time to review, please do. Laura.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: thank you for all the kind reviews. If you have time to review after you read this chapter, I'd appreciate it.**_

* * *

It was a two hour flight from the nation's capital to Atlanta, Georgia, and Booth used that time to focus on getting himself into warrior mode. He'd left the life he loved behind in DC in order to provide a service for his country...a service that would involve him using his sniper skills to kill a man. Granted, the man in question had committed many heinous war crimes, but he was still a human being, and the taking of his life was not to be done without a great deal of deep soul searching and intense mental preparation.

Sipping a soft drink as he stared out the plane's window, Booth pondered the situation silently while he watched the scenery pass quickly by below him. He wondered how many people would still be willing to thank him for his military service if they knew what was his mission was to entail on this deployment. Most people were glad to shake a soldier's hand and to wish him good luck for his tour of duty, and then never give him a second thought. _Out of sight...out of mind, right?,_ he thought grimly. _Very few people actually consider what's involved when that soldier goes off to war_. _Nobody wants to think about what the guy's actually gonna do while he's deployed. Nobody wants to think about the dangers he's gonna face...whether or not he's in a combat situation...whether or not he has to kill someone. It's just 'good luck' and 'spare me the details about the fortunes of war'._

However, he'd experienced it firsthand. If a soldier was engaged in an active combat zone, his life would never be the same, even if he survived the conflict physically unscathed. There would always be the thought in the back of his mind that he'd participated in some action that had most likely led to the death of another human being, and when he came home, he'd be carrying those unseen scars...the scars a soldier tried to keep hidden from his friends and family. _People don't know how hard it is...I guess that's why so many vets have PTSD...sometimes it seems like nobody cares what happened to them while they were gone, and then who do they talk to when they get home? Telling someone you love...telling them that you killed someone...even if it's your job...it's so hard...wondering if they'll be horrified...if they can still love you after everything you've done. Thank God, Bones doesn't judge me...she loves me no matter what…_ He blinked away his tears as he thought once again of his girlfriend. _I'm one lucky bastard…_

He frowned as he absentmindedly munched on some pretzels. Even after going through the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation multiple times, it seemed there were always shadows left behind in his conscience...remnants of the guilt that always haunted him after the shedding of an enemy combatant's blood. No matter how often he'd gone to see Aldo for absolution, there was always that tiny shard of doubt that poked at his heart, making him wonder if he'd ever achieve lasting peace about the state of his immortal soul. _I was doing my job...I hated it...but it was my responsibility. It was for the greater good, right? Maybe I saved lives by taking out one of those guys...at least, that's what I was told...that's how they tried to justify it...but I still killed a guy...a guy who maybe had a family that loved him...just like I do..._

That tortuous search for peace on Booth's part had been more than Aldo's psyche could handle, and, after crumbling under the strain, he'd eventually left the priesthood. Booth sighed softly as he thought of his friend. His confessor was a good man, but the stress of sharing the burdens and heartaches which so many soldiers had borne as they confessed...as they tried to justify their actions during a war...it was simply too much for his tender heart to bear. _I wonder what Aldo's up to now...I'd like to see him again...let him see how I turned out...tell him about Bones..._

Suddenly Booth felt exhausted. Closing his eyes, he tried to nap, hoping the low drone of the jet engines would lull him to sleep, but he was simply too agitated, as uneasy thoughts about his project intruded on his rest. _What the hell am I doing...taking on this project? This is crazy…going halfway around the world to do this shit..._

When he was first approached about this job, he had wondered if he was still warrior enough to take this project on, but Colonel Randall didn't have any doubts about him at all. The Army wanted an experienced, sure handed man for this job...someone who was calm and steady under pressure, and a man not prone to brag or show off. Having read reports about Sergeant Major Booth's efforts in training and leading the Afghan soldiers on his last duty rotation, the colonel was sure he had the right man for the job. Booth had been hesitant at first, only agreeing to take on the assignment because of who the target was. _Anybody else, and I would've stayed at home...with Bones._ _Colonel Randall said I was the guy...the one they needed...but maybe I was just the first guy who said yes..._

Unfortunately, Booth knew better. He'd been around the block a few times...enough times to realize that the Army had needed an experienced sniper for this assignment. He was the one they needed. He had the necessary skills, so he had a part to play in this drama, whether he liked it or not.

It was always the same thing...he was the guy the Army went to in a pinch, because he was good at his job, he was reliable, and he was also good with people. He had the ability to inspire a diverse group of people to work toward a common goal, and he understood what made people tick. Those skills had enabled him to become a leader in the Army as well as in the FBI, but that leadership ability had also put him in the line of fire...both physically and emotionally...for most of his adult life. He'd need those skills as he worked with his spotter and the intel guys on this job...

There'd been many times during a deployment when he'd been involved in trying to lead others past the fear and guilt involved in the aftermath of a bloody battle. He'd lost men under his command, and he'd personally been responsible for the death of many enemy combatants. He'd come to grips with the feelings of anger and self hatred that had bubbled up inside of him from time to time...at least he'd always thought he had. Now he wasn't so sure...

Staring at the clouds outside his window as the plane flew on to its destination, he wondered if his relationship with Hannah had been his way of coping with the stress of being deployed the last time he was in Afghanistan. She had been a welcome escape from the horrors of war that he'd faced on that tour of duty.

Even though it was supposed to be a low risk tour, it had been anything but easy. The unit of Afghan soldiers he'd been assigned to train had suffered many casualties, and it was difficult not to blame himself for the deaths and injuries inflicted upon those newly trained soldiers under his command. Sighing as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes again, he thought about the men he'd tried to train while he was there...very young men, most of them...boys, really...boys who'd never really held a gun with the intent of killing someone...boys who never had any sort of formal military training...young men and boys who wanted to protect their country...men willing to risk everything for their country, just as he was...but there was no time for basic training or anything like that…it was a lick and a promise, hold your breath and hope for the best...and often their best just wasn't good enough...

And then there were Larry and Alan. Both of them were there in that God forsaken place to train new Afghan soldiers, just like he was. Booth smiled sadly as he thought of his friends. They were great guys, and they'd all had a lot of fun together, talking about how hard it was to train the green recruits that had enlisted in the new Afghan army...talking about what they were going to do as soon as they got home...talking about football…talking about their wives and lovers...They were two great guys whose jeep just happened to run over an IED on the way to talk to some village elders about provisions for the new troops…and then they were gone...

Booth was roused from his musings by the flight attendant's announcement that they'd be landing in Atlanta shortly. He shook off his despair and set his jaw in steely resolve. He had an important job to do. He'd volunteered to take on this project. There was no more room for sadness or regret...no room for anything that might distract him from completing this assignment successfully and returning home to his Bones.

As the passengers disembarked from the plane, no one noticed the subtle change that had taken place in the demeanor of the serviceman among them. The man who'd boarded the plane was Special Agent Seeley Booth, outstanding FBI agent, loving boyfriend, and doting father. The man leaving the plane was Sergeant Major Seeley Booth, a decorated, battle tested Army Ranger who was determined to take out his target with whatever deadly force was necessary. He looked like the same pleasant man except for the determined expression on his face. Instead of the gentle smile, he was grim, bent on completing his task to the best of his abilities.

He nodded to himself as he walked away from the gate. It was time to go to work.

Oooooooooo

Brennan sighed as she walked into her empty apartment after returning from the airport. She glanced at the time on the microwave...3 PM. Booth would be at least halfway to Atlanta by now, but after that, she had no idea where he was going. Listlessly, she sat on the sofa and looked around her living room. Even though Booth was a naturally tidy person, there was evidence of his presence in her life everywhere she looked...the Foreigner CD left out on the player...the necktie he'd forgotten to take back to his apartment...the macaroni and cheese ramekins on the shelf above the stove...the faint scent of his aftershave in the bed linens. In less than a week he had permeated every aspect of her life, even more so than before Hannah had entered the picture. She and Booth were truly a couple now, and she'd never be able to forget that, no matter what happened while he was gone.

Sitting down at the kitchen counter, she wiped away fresh tears as she thought about breakfast earlier that morning.

Oooooooooo

 _She and Booth were sitting at their usual table in the diner, laughing as they enjoyed each other's company, when Frankie, the restaurant's owner, came out from the kitchen to see them. He eyed Booth's fatigues with a serious expression, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking._

" _So you're leaving us again, huh? Going overseas? Jesus, I hate that, Booth...but probably not as much as Dr. Brennan does, right?" Nodding toward Brennan, Frankie continued as he waved for Ellie to bring them some more coffee. "Tell you what...breakfast is on me today." Holding up his hand to stop their protests, he wouldn't hear of taking their money. "You just get your ass home in one piece so Dr. Brennan won't be so sad, okay?" The man tried to laugh as he shook Booth's hand. "You gotta be careful, okay? You're one of my best customers, and I'd hate to lose all of that business if something happened to you."_

" _Yeah...thanks, Frankie." Stirring some sugar into his newly warmed cup of coffee, Booth stared pensively out the diner's picture window. "I don't know, Bones…", he said softly. "Maybe I was wrong…"_

" _I don't believe so, Booth...you said that you felt this project was necessary…" Brennan shrugged as she spread some strawberry jam on her piece of toast. "I believe you made the right decision…"_

" _Not about the project. That's not what I meant." He avoided looking at her as he poured some ketchup on his hash browns. "It's hard to explain." Sighing softly, he shook his head. "I guess I was being selfish, you know? I couldn't bring myself to leave the country without seeing you again, and now...now I'm dragging you into this mess, making you worry about me while I'm gone...Maybe you would've been better off if you hadn't found out what I was doing…"_

 _She put down her knife and stared at him, folding her hands in her lap as she chewed her lip. "Do you regret entering into a monogamous relationship with me, Booth?", she asked quietly._

 _He sat back in his chair, incredulous that she would think that. "No, of course not! I love you, and I'm so glad we're finally together, but maybe I should've waited until I got back to let you know how I feel…maybe it would've been easier on you. That way you wouldn't have to fret about me...but I just couldn't wait any more to tell you how I felt, you know? I'd carried that secret around too long. I had to see you...I had to tell you everything...you know...but I guess I should've waited..."_

" _However, as you yourself have pointed out, there is no guarantee that you will come back. I'm glad that you told me before you left, Booth. It makes me so happy, knowing that you love me, and if I hadn't learned the truth...I just can't imagine how sad my life would be, not knowing..." She picked up her tea cup and stared into it as she continued. "As I understand it, it is a very dangerous mission, but you think you'll be successful, and I trust you to be careful. In any event, I would worry about you even if I thought you were at home working on cases for the FBI. Your career is not without danger..." She took a sip and shook her head. "If something did happen, and I didn't even know you were out of the country...it would be even more devastating to think that you didn't tell me what was going on...that you didn't trust me, your friend, enough to tell me you were leaving, and having to find out that way...it would be so...horrendous..."_

" _Bones…" The pain in his eyes was evident. "I plan on coming home, but I would never want to hurt you. If something happens to me, and I don't make it back…"_

" _...then I will grieve for you, but I will also be grateful for this time that we've had together. Would you deny me these memories? Would you deny me the joy of having finally been able to love you the way I've wanted to all these years?"_

" _No." He smiled sadly as he took her hand. "I wouldn't want to deny those memories to myself, either. I wouldn't trade the last few days for anything, Bones. I love you so much…"_

 _They'd finished their meal quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, as she drove him to the airport, he'd made an effort to cheer her up...telling her funny stories about Pops and Parker, and about some of his own escapades in high school. He'd also teased her as they awaited his departure...telling her the Army thought they were already married...and then...it was time for him to leave her..._

Oooooooooo

And now she was alone again. The silence in her apartment was suffocating. She'd chosen this place because it was located away from the noise of the street below, but now she missed hearing the comforting sounds of life that had filled her apartment over the last few days. There were no footsteps in the hall...no whistling or humming from the bathroom...no one yelling at at a televised hockey game...no one calling her name, greeting her as they came through the front door. All she heard was the soft hum of the refrigerator and the insistent tick of a clock somewhere. How was it possible to miss someone so much after such a short time?

She sniffled bit as she stood up and smoothed her clothes, reminding herself that Booth would be careful and that he'd promised to come home as soon as he could. He didn't want to be gone, either, but sometimes, unfortunately, work came first. _In any event,_ she reminded herself, _I am a strong, independent person, and I can go on with my own life until he returns._ She sighed as she traced a design on the counter with her fingers. She was strong...but no longer impervious. She'd opened her heart to love, and all of the possibilities that accompanied that emotion, even the uncomfortable ones. _I can be strong...I must stay busy..._

Trying to shake off her feelings of self-pity, Brennan opened the manuscript file on her laptop to work on the latest chapter of her book. Work had always provided solace for her, and she knew that keeping busy would help keep her mind occupied so she wouldn't worry so much. After typing a few lines she puffed out a sigh as she heard her doorbell ring. Peering out the peephole, she grimaced slightly. Why would the postman be at her door?

"Yes?" Brennan stood expectantly, thinking her publisher had sent her some sort of important letter that just couldn't wait.

"Hello, Dr. Brennan." Bill, the postman, gave her a big grin. "I've got a special delivery here. I need you to sign for it, please…" He handed her a tablet and she scribbled her name before taking the package from him.

"Thank you." She nodded politely as she turned and closed the door behind her. The package looked like any other mailed parcel. "Nothing suspicious…it's in a regular USPS mailer…" She chuckled to herself. Booth would be pleased with her caution as she inspected her parcel. "The return address is…" Suddenly she broke out into a wide grin as she tore open the box. A note fluttered out as she removed the bubble wrapped contents.

 _Dear Bones,_

 _I thought you might want a copy of this picture to help you remember what a wonderful day this was. See you soon. I love you. Booth_

Brennan pulled back the wrapping to reveal a framed copy of the picture they'd had taken together at the park over the weekend. Wiping away a stray tear, she giggled softly as she ran her hand over the glass covering the photograph in the rustic wooden frame, appreciating yet more evidence of how much Booth loved her. She took the picture and set it on the nightstand next to her side of the bed. _This will be the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see in the morning._ Biting her lip as she ran her fingers across the frame one more time, she walked back to her living room, hoping she could finish her chapter without thinking of Booth every five seconds. _I truly doubt that_ _I will accomplish that goal, but I suppose it's worth trying…_ One last look out the window, hoping for Booth's safety and quick return, and then it was time to get back to work. _At least I hope I can work...be careful, Booth...I love you…_

Oooooooooo

Booth checked in with the clerk at the ticket counter, making sure his duffle bag had been checked through to Amsterdam. The airline agent scanned his computer and nodded. "Yes sir, Sergeant Major...you're bag is being processed as we speak. Your flight leaves from Concourse E...it'll be easier if you take the train…Good luck..."

"Thanks." Shouldering his carry on bag, Booth boarded the underground shuttle train that would take him out to the international concourse. As he got off the train and took the escalator up to the departure level, he realized he was ravenously hungry. It had been several hours since he'd eaten breakfast, and his pretzels and soda on the flight from DC hadn't lasted very long. He found a sandwich shop at the entrance to the concourse and decided to stop in for a quick meal.

Since it was five o'clock, the shop was busy with other people lined up trying to get something to eat before they boarded their planes as well. After waiting impatiently for a few minutes, Booth finally received his order and was quickly turning to find a table when he ran into the elderly man behind him. "Oh...sorry…I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

The man smiled and waved it off. "No problem, son. I can see you're in a hurry."

After finding a seat at the last empty table in the busy cafe, Booth unwrapped his sandwich and was about to take a bite when the same elderly man approached him and smiled.

"It's quite crowded in here, and there aren't any empty tables. Do you mind if I join you, Sergeant Major Booth?" Without waiting for an affirmative answer, the man sat down and busied himself with his meal. "Thanks."

Tired, irritable, and not wanting to be disturbed as he ate, especially by some random stranger, Booth growled at the man without looking up from his sandwich. "Well, hell, I guess not. Sure, go right ahead and make yourself at home, why don't you…" Booth swallowed hard as he noticed the man's clerical collar. "...Father. Jesus...I mean, not Jesus...excuse me, Father. Don't wanna take the Lord's name in vain, right? That's one of the Ten Commandments, you know? Well, yeah, of course you know that. You probably learned that in Seminary, right? Or maybe in catechism...a long time ago...dammit..." Clearing his throat nervously, he played with the straw sticking up out of his cup. "Sorry to be so rude. I guess I'm in a rush...gotta plane to catch, you know? I'm kinda nervous...got a lot on my mind, I guess. Of course you can join me, Father." Narrowing his eyes, Booth studied the white haired priest suspiciously. "How'd you know who I was?"

The priest chuckled softly as he pointed at Booth's uniform. "Your name's on the front of your uniform shirt, remember? Your rank is on your insignia tag...and Rangers lead the way, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Rangers lead the way." Booth chewed thoughtfully before he took a sip of his drink. The elderly priest had that certain bearing common in military men. "Are you an Army chaplain, Father?"

"Oh, no, son…Army, 75th Regiment...VietNam 1969. I was a Ranger, just like you…and I saw a lot of action, just like I imagine you did when you were in the Middle East or Kosovo, or Afghanistan, or wherever the hell you were last time you were deployed…" Stirring a packet of sugar into his tea, the priest calmly eyed Booth. "Some of what happened...some of the action I saw during my time there in 'Nam, was really bad for me, just like it was for you where you were deployed."

"How would you know anything about my time in Kosovo or the Middle East? That's just crazy." Booth shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was like the priest could read his mind. "I mean, yeah, some of that shit...stuff...action...was bad...and I lost some friends, but…"

Raising his hand to interrupt Booth, the old man continued. "I hope you won't think I'm being too presumptuous, Sergeant Major. I know I'm intruding on your privacy a bit, but I think I know at least part of your story, because I think it's probably a lot like mine. I came home from VietNam disillusioned and angry because of what I'd experienced, and I wondered how God could actually exist, or if He did, how He could still love me after everything I'd done to my fellow human beings during my time in Southeast Asia. When I separated from the service, I wanted to prove to myself, and to others, that I was still a good man, and that I could make a difference in the world, so I became a vice cop. I worked in some of the worst parts of Los Angeles, and I saw things there that were almost as bad as what I saw in Nam. But there was this woman…"

Booth nodded and grinned. "Yeah, I know. There's always 'this woman', isn't there…"

"Yes, there is." Laughing as he took another sip of his tea, the priest continued with a twinkle in his eyes. "However, I think I probably had a different relationship with my female friend than you have with yours. The woman I'm speaking of was a nun who ran a mission in the center of the red light district of Watts. It was in the worst part of Los Angeles, and she'd opened a free clinic for the drug addicts and prostitutes in the area and a soup kitchen for the poor and homeless people in the neighborhood. Sister Mary Bernadette and three other nuns…Sisters of Charity, they were...they worked tirelessly to help the people in the neighborhood surrounding their little storefront clinic. It was a nasty, rundown little joint, you know? But they cleaned it up all by themselves, and they did so much good for the people they served, without asking for anything in return. Well, Sister Mary Bernadette was a tiny little thing, but she was a strong willed woman, willing to face down the biggest and baddest pimps and drug dealers in town if it meant she could help someone. She really made a strong impression on me, so I began to volunteer at the mission whenever I had the time. I was drawn there, like it was a magnet for my soul. Strange as it sounds, working at the place helped soothed my pain, I guess. I couldn't get enough of being there, watching how those sisters loved those people they worked with." He smiled as he looked across the table at Booth. "Pretty soon I found that I wasn't as angry at God as I was before. I had found my humanity again. I finally found peace working among God's poorest, most marginalized people…and that's when I decided to become a priest so I could serve them even better, both physically and spiritually. The Lord had used my anger and bitterness as a way to get me to reach out to others." Chuckling, the priest picked up some chips and popped them in his mouth. "He's pretty sneaky that way, you know?"

Smiling, Booth nodded as he took a bite of his sandwich. "That's a fine story, Father. Very inspirational. I'm glad you shared that with me. Thanks." Booth was truly moved by the priest's tale of reconciliation with God, and he decided to share his own story with the man sitting across from him. "I'm with the FBI in DC...Special Agent in Charge of the Major Crimes Division. The woman I know is my girlfriend and my work partner...we solve murders together." Booth smiled sheepishly. "She's been helping me even out my cosmic balance sheet...you know, helping me put away as many killers as people I've killed for the Army…and there's been a lot of them. I've had the same issue as you had...wondering how God could love me after everything I've done...wanting to make things right with Him...it's hard, you know? I mean, I'm just doing my job for the Army, only that job is to kill people, right? That's so hard to deal with that even the Army chaplain who was my confessor got tired of listening to all that shit, and he left the priesthood." Staring at his sandwich, Booth shrugged. "I'm sorry, Father. I know you didn't join me here at dinner to listen to my lame ideas...or to hear my confession…"

"Maybe not, Sergeant Major...but I know you're carrying a very heavy burden of some sort...I can see it in your face. As a priest, it's my responsibility to help you handle that burden." Seeing Booth's surprised expression, the priest quickly continued. "Oh, I know you can't tell me exactly what that burden is...I don't need to know, anyway, since it's in God's hands. I just felt like you should know that you're not really alone in your struggle. The Lord is always with you, you know, whether you feel His Presence or not. He'll never leave you alone, no matter how bad things get, and the best news is that He'll always love you, no matter what happens. You can't do anything bad enough where He won't forgive you if you ask Him...although you may have to do quite a few Hail Marys to make up for some of those things, you know? A little penance never hurt anyone." The priest smiled as he folded his hands in his lap. "I presume you have several people praying for you back home?"

"Well, yeah...sort of. I mean, I'm Catholic, but my girlfriend isn't...in fact, she says she doesn't believe in God at all." Booth glanced at the elderly man, expecting him to be scandalized, but the man smiled benignly as he sipped his tea. "But I know my son and his mother are praying for me, and the members of my parish are, too…and maybe some of my friends..."

"Wonderful. You're a lucky man to have that much support. If you don't mind, I'll pray for you as well." The priest checked his watch and quickly began to pick up the remnants of his meal. "My goodness, look at the time. I've got to be going...on my way to Rome, you see…can't keep His Holiness waiting." The old man stood and made the sign of the cross over Booth. "Godspeed, my son. The Lord protect thee and keep thee in the hollow of His hand." Reaching into his wallet, he handed Booth a business card. "When you get home, please email me...I want to know how things work out for you, Sergeant Major Booth."

"Yes, Father, and thank you. Rangers lead the way, right?" Booth smiled as he shook the priest's hand.

"Well, actually, I've discovered that the Lord leads the way, but the Rangers follow Him closely, hanging onto His shirttails whenever they get the chance." The men both chuckled at the joke. "Goodbye, Sergeant Major Booth…"

"Goodbye, Father." Waving as the man left, Booth glanced at the business card.

 _His Eminence_

 _Lawrence Cardinal St. George_

 _Archbishop, the Diocese of Los Angeles_

"I just ate dinner with a Cardinal? Wow…and I called him Father, like he was an ordinary priest...and he never corrected me. He was just like any other regular guy...", Booth mumbled to himself as he shook his head in disbelief. Maybe he'd be lucky and the saints would be more willing to listen to his prayers now that he had a Cardinal on his side…

Glancing at his watch, Booth realized he also needed to hurry to catch his flight. He gathered up his wrappers and threw them away before jogging down to the security checkpoint. He passed through military security quickly and soon found himself at the right gate. Slightly out of breath, he checked in with the gate agent. "Sergeant Major Seeley Booth…"

"Let me see here…" The agent scrolled through the passenger list. "Oh yes, here we are, Sergeant Major Booth. You're in row 1 seat 3…"

"Wait a minute…" Booth scratched his head as he shifted his bag on his shoulder. "That's business class...that can't be right...the Army doesn't pay for its guys to fly business class…not unless they're the brass..."

"I don't know about that, sir...it just says that your seat's been upgraded…" The agent shrugged and smiled. "I guess maybe today's your lucky day."

"Yeah, maybe so." Chuckling, Booth pulled out his phone as he walked away from the desk and sent a quick text. _Thanks for the upgrade, Bones...love you…_

A chime quickly sounded with her response. _My pleasure….I love you, too..._

It was time to board the plane, and then shit became real...he was about to leave everything in his normal life behind and he had no idea when, if ever, he'd be able to return to it. Saying one more silent prayer, he stepped onto the plane that was about to take him across the Atlantic.


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N: please remember that this is a work of fiction. The characters in the story, except for the Bones characters, are my creation._**

 ** _A big thanks to Faith in Bones for her help with this chapter. It's nice to bounce ideas off someone from time to time, and she helped with my Cajun vocabulary, such as it is._**

 ** _This story takes place over a few weeks. It may seem like we're spending a lot of time on small details, but they are important to the story._**

 ** _Now...on with the story._**

* * *

Caroline Julian wore a scowl as she rode the elevator up to her floor at the Department of Justice Thursday morning, muttering angrily to herself. "Just how's a body s'posed to get a job done around here when she's gotta deal with a couillon like that? I declare...they must be gettin' desperate over at Quantico to let that one slip by and graduate." Opening her office door, she slammed it behind her and threw her briefcase on a chair. "What was Booth thinkin'? That man's runnin' off halfway 'round the world to do some sort of European maneuvers with the Rangers, and so now I get stuck with his idiot replacement, Agent Norwood, while he's gone. That Norwood is a stupid fella if ever there was one...that de'pouille couldn't find his ass with both hands. I swear...Booth's too old to be playin' soldier…he needs to be home helpin' me close these cases instead of leaving me with the likes of that jackass…"

Grumbling noisily, she plopped down in front of her computer. If she had to tell the truth, she'd have to admit that she wasn't on edge just because Norwood was an idiot. She was also very worried about Booth as well. She had a strong feeling that what he was calling "some Alpine maneuvers" on this trip might be something a lot more dangerous than a war game where some overgrown boys were set up on a mock battlefield pretending to shoot at each other. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so hush-hush about the whole damn thing. _Crazy, ain't it? Why that man feels like he's gotta help the gov'ment by being out of the country with the Army, goin' somewhere far away, instead of workin' to solve crimes here at home, is beyond me…why can't he see that? We need him here...he has more than enough to do to keep himself occupied in DC..._

Of course, what was done was done, and he'd be gone at least six weeks, much to Caroline's bitter aggravation. She glared at her computer screen as she logged on, hoping to salvage the day by getting a little bit of paperwork done, but her thoughts kept turning back to her favorite FBI agent. _I bet this has to do with that nasty blonde hussy he was seeing. She broke his heart, and now it's like he's run off to join the Foreign Legion or sumthin. I'd like to give that little bitch a piece of my mind, hurting a good man like that. She 'bout ruined him when she left him for someone else. He shoulda stuck with Dr. Brennan to begin with...that scientist is a good woman, and she woulda been good for him...instead of that homewrecker…_ Pounding furiously on her keyboard as she typed a brief, she didn't hear the knock on her door.

Finally, her visitor called to her. "Ms. Julian? Do you have a minute?"

Unable to hide her surprise, Caroline stammered a bit as she answered. "Oh...um...Dr. Brennan. Good morning…"

Brennan stood in doorway, looking uncertain as to whether or not she should enter. "I'm sorry to bother you…"

"It's no bother, Cher'. Come on in and have a seat. It's just that I wasn't expectin' to see you, especially since you've been off on sabbatical and all, but I'm glad you stopped by. How's that going, bein' off work like that? I know you like to stay busy..."

"It's going well, thank you." Sitting down across from Caroline, Brennan was all business as she began to explain her reason for the visit. "Actually, I'd like to enlist your assistance...if you have time, that is. I don't want to keep you from your normal work."

"Of course I have time for my friends." Curious about what sort of help the anthropologist could possibly need, Caroline smiled as she sat back in her chair. "What can I do for you?"

"There's a man who's been harassing me, and I want him to leave me alone. It seems he has failed to understand me, even though I've told him repeatedly that I'm not interested in continuing our relationship. He calls me even though I've asked him to stop, and I believe he's been following me as I run my weekly errands. I want him to cease and desist immediately..."

Caroline interrupted Brennan's angry explanation. "Wait a minute, Cher'. That sounds like a problem for the Metro boys…I mean, after all, you are a famous author. It could be just some obsessed fan, right?"

"I thought so, too, at first, but it's to a point where I feel like there's something more to it. He seems determined to interrupt my life...to make me as uncomfortable as possible. No matter what I say, he simply laughs it off and then continues to annoy me. It's almost predatory." Brennan crossed her arms over her chest. "I now believe this is something for the Department of Justice to look into. He's been working on a contract for the federal government, in conjunction with the Jeffersonian...some sort of security review. Since I was on contract to a federal agency as well when we first met, doesn't that make this sort of harassment federal jurisdiction?"

"It would seem so." Nodding, the attorney thought over the implications of her visitor's complaint. _The line this fella crossed...it must be serious...Dr. Brennan isn't one to scare easily._ "As you know, this sort of behavior isn't tolerated by the gov'ment. Most federal institutions have strict rules about that sort of thing, and they definitely don't take kindly to any sort of sexual harassment allegations against their contract employees, particularly if those allegations are made by other contracted federal employees. That in itself would be enough to get his ass kicked to the curb. I can look into the matter for you, if you'd like. What's this fella's name?" Caroline opened a file on her computer. "Tell me everything you can about him…"

"Rick Carothers. He's in his early 40s, single, and he lives in Vienna, Virginia. He was at the Jeffersonian for several weeks, working with the head of security there, getting ready for a new exhibit that's to be put in place soon." Pausing to take a deep breath, Brennan continued quietly. "I went out with him three times, but then I decided I didn't want to see him again. Unfortunately, he refuses to leave me alone."

"So, these calls...I'm assuming it's more than just to check in and say hi…", Caroline began.

"He has made several disgusting suggestions of a sexual nature over the phone." Brennan frowned as she studied her nails. "I've tried blocking his calls, but for some reason I haven't been successful, and his number doesn't come up on caller ID, either. It's impractical to avoid taking phone calls merely because it might be Rick, but I'm beginning to think that's what I need to do."

"Hmm…" Typing some notes into the file, Caroline nodded. "Let me see what I can find out, okay? If nothing else, we can have a couple of agents go rattle his cage. That oughta shut the fool down." She smiled sadly as she turned from her computer. "Too bad Booth is out of town. I bet he'd set this Rick fella straight in a minute. He'd make damn sure this guy would leave his partner alone..."

"I'm sure Booth would be delighted to do so, Ms. Julian, even at the expense of his career." Brennan rose quickly, hoping the prosecutor hadn't noticed her faint blush at the mention of her boyfriend's name. "Thank you. I feel better knowing that you're going to check on this."

"No problem, Cher'. Don't let that bastard wear you down. You just take care of yourself 'til Booth gets back. I think both y'all still got some things to work out, right?"

"Maybe a few details." Grinning happily, Brennan waved as she moved toward the door. "Goodbye, Ms. Julian."

"Bye now." Caroline raised an eyebrow as she turned back to her computer. Based on the anthropologist's beautiful smile, it seemed that Booth may have had time to take care of some of those little details with Dr. Brennan before he left. Chuckling to herself, she did a search for Rick Carothers in the DOJ database, and was surprised to find nothing on the man. "How does he get to work at the Jeffersonian without anything on file?", she mused. "No fingerprints...no picture...somethin's real fishy here…"

Just then her phone rang. "Hello...Norwood? What? Yes, I'll be right over. No, don't you dare. You just wait 'til I get there!" Puffing out a sigh as she ended the call, Caroline promised herself she'd do some more research on Dr. Brennan's little friend as soon as she could. Right now, however, it was more important to make sure that Agent Norwood didn't botch another interrogation.

Oooooooooo

Booth yawned sleepily as he turned over in his bed and smiled at the beautiful woman lying next to him. Her bright blue eyes raked hungrily over his nude body as he caressed her cheek before kissing her soft lips. His heart raced as she responded to his kiss, moaning softly as her hips thrust towards him, begging him to enter her. "Make love to me again, Booth...don't stop now...I want you…so much..."

"Whatever you say, baby. I want you, too." He rolled over on top of her, wanting to prove how much he loved her...wanting to mark her as his own...thrusting deeper and deeper as she cried out in pleasure...she said his name over and over, breathless as they reached their climax together. Rolling onto his side, he put his arm around her as their breathing slowed, crooning her name softly as she drifted off to sleep. "I love you, Bones…I always will..."

All he wanted now was to spend the rest of the day in bed with her, eating coconut ice cream and chocolate chip cookies after they'd made love for hours, but his alarm clock kept insisting on beeping incessantly. He reached over to the nightstand so he could shut the damn thing off, but for some reason he couldn't find it. The clock kept nagging him loudly as he groped for it… _wake up...wake up...wake up…_

The flight attendant spoke a little louder as she tried once again to wake the sleeping soldier in row one. Finally she patted him gently on the shoulder, jostling him a bit. "Sergeant Major Booth? I'm sorry, but you need to wake up, Sergeant. We'll be landing in The Netherlands shortly…"

"Hmm? What?" His eyes flew open as he remembered where he was. "Jesus…" Groaning as he realized he might've taken an accidental swipe at the woman, he smiled contritely. "Sorry. I hope I didn't hit you by accident while you were trying to wake me up. I was dreaming about trying to find my alarm clock." Giving her a quizzical look, he rubbed his face and stretched out his legs as he tried to bring himself back to reality. Shaking off his drowsiness, he looked around the cabin as the other passengers began to stir. "Was I talking in my sleep?" _Shit..I hope not…_ Hearing the pilot announce their approximate time of arrival, he nodded in understanding. "Oh, I get it. We'll be landing soon, right? Okay." He pulled the back of his seat into the upright position and lowered his footrest. "Is that better?"

"There we go. Thank you, Sergeant." She moved down the narrow aisle to check on the rest of her charges. "Good luck on your deployment."

"Thanks." He winced slightly as the flight attendant walked away, scratching his head as he remembered his dream about lying comfortably in bed next to his Bones. It had been so real…and so wonderful...and he hoped he hadn't embarrassed himself too much in front of the other passengers… _Christ, that's all I need...a sex dream while I'm flying first class...I hope I didn't say anything I'll regret...but, God...it was wonderful..._

Booth watched as the crew bustled around to prepare the plane for landing. It would be early morning when they arrived...the start of a new day. There were a lot of different flights he could've taken to get to his destination, but he'd opted for the overnight flight, reasoning that his fellow passengers would be less likely to feel the urge to interact socially and more likely to sleep, thus eliminating the need for him to engage aimless chitchat. The less said in public about the purpose of his journey, the better he'd like it, and he didn't want to be roped into some inane discussion with a curious civilian who wanted to know all about his life in the service. Avoiding the situation all together seemed the best option.

Stretching and shifting in his seat again, Booth twisted his head from side to side as he tried to work the kinks out of his back and his neck. He rarely slept well on planes, and he was surprised that he had been not only asleep but dreaming as well. Always the highly trained special forces soldier, even when he wasn't on active duty, his restless mind would usually be on high alert during a flight, making sure things were operating safely and smoothly. Even though he was in the FBI instead of the TSA, Booth had been through some air marshal training before he'd gone on the trip to China with Bones, and he was still ready to spring into action to prevent acts of terrorism on an airplane if it ever became necessary to do so. However, it appeared that for some reason the last twenty four hours were different. He'd finally succumbed to exhaustion and had slept for...he checked his watch...six hours. Not bad. He felt somewhat refreshed and ready for the busy day ahead of him.

The flight attendant cleared her throat as she began her announcements. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're beginning our final descent into Amsterdam. All electronic devices must be turned off at this time. Please make sure your seats are in the upright position, your tray tables and carry on bags are stowed correctly, and your seatbelts are fastened. We'll be landing shortly. It's 46 degrees and cloudy in Amsterdam this morning. Thank you for choosing Delta Airlines."

Trying to clear the last of the grogginess from his brain, Booth pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat back in his chair and braced himself for landing. It had been just yesterday morning that he stood in Brennan's apartment getting ready to leave...less than 24 hours ago, but it seemed more like a lifetime ago instead. "Probably just jet lag…", Booth said to himself, but he wondered if it was something more. He'd never been one to be homesick when he was focused on a mission, but this one was different. This time there was so much more to lose if he wasn't successful. _I can't focus on Bones right now. I have important work to do before I can go home. It won't take very long, and then I'll be on the way back to Bones before I know it._ Booth grimaced as the plane touched down lightly on the tarmac. _Yeah...you keep telling yourself that, Booth, and eventually it might actually be true…_

Oooooooooo

The Lufthansa gate agent was apologetic, shaking her head in sympathy, but there was nothing she could do to make the situation work out better. "I'm afraid your flight to Frankfurt will be leaving later than originally scheduled, Sergeant Major Booth." She checked her computer monitor once again. "The inbound connecting flight from London was delayed by bad weather." She glanced at her watch as she mused over the information on the screen in front of her. "It's eight AM now...looks like estimated time of departure is listed as...eleven AM, which should put you in Frankfurt at approximately noon. Would you like me to change your itinerary for you? Perhaps I can rebook you on a different flight if you need to make a connection…or maybe we can get you a seat on the train..."

He shrugged and shook his head. "Never mind...don't worry about it. Frankfurt is my destination. I guess I'll just be late getting in, that's all. No big deal." He gave the woman a friendly grin. "Hey, is there a place where I can get an American style breakfast around here? You know, bacon and eggs...maybe some pancakes?"

Pointing up at the level above where they stood, the agent nodded. "There are restaurants serving a variety of fare on the upper level, and I believe there's some sort of...how do you say? A diner? It's somewhat of a novelty around here…"

"Yeah, thanks. So my flight will leave at this gate?" He looked at the screen above the gate agent's head.

"Yes. Here you go...here's your boarding pass, and your bag has been checked through to Frankfurt. Please check in with me approximately 20 minutes before flight time. Thank you for your understanding, Sergeant Major…"

"No problem." Booth shifted his carry on bag to his shoulder as he took the boarding pass. "Can't do anything about the weather, you know?"

Ooooooo

Wandering along the upper level of the concourse, Booth passed several small cafes and sandwich stands until he came to the restaurant the gate agent had mentioned. _The Main Street Diner...hmm_. The old fashioned jukebox inside was blaring loud music from the fifties and sixties as he checked out the menu posted in front of the restaurant. _Hmm...breakfast served anytime...sounds just like what I have in mind…"_ He walked in and found an empty seat at the old fashioned counter. Nodding to the khaki clad Marine sitting next to it, he pointed at the stool. "This seat taken, Gunny?"

Eying Booth's fatigues with a smirk, the man shook his head and shrugged as he turned back to his plate. "Nah, help yourself, Sarge." Putting down his coffee cup, the Marine beckoned the waitress to refill his coffee before he turned back to Booth. "Coming or going?"

"What?" Surprised by the question, Booth hesitated a bit. "Oh, sorry. Coming. Alpine maneuvers for the Rangers. I guess all those fucking mountains we've got at home ain't good enough to prove we can still do our job, you know? They gotta send me halfway around the goddamn world..."

"Yeah, the goddamn brass up top don't give a fucking rat's ass where they send us grunts, do they? Might as well send us to fucking Antarctica for all they care...anything they can do to make our life a difficult goddamn pile of shit." Shaking his head as he sipped his coffee, Booth's companion continued with a chuckle. "I'm finally going home. Been in Mosul for 15 months, and I'm done. Ain't nobody gonna ever make me wear a goddamn uniform again…" He brushed a bit of lint from his pants as he grinned at Booth. "God, I'm so glad to be finally going home…"

"Yeah, I know the feeling. I'm gonna finish my time on this trip and then be done myself. I'm a reservist, so it's only a few months more…" Booth gave his order to the waitress and stirred some sugar into his coffee. "It's rough, being overseas for a long time, though. I'd sure miss my kid…"

"Yeah." Gunny nodded sadly as he took a bite of his pancakes. "I got two girls myself, and it always feels like I left behind two completely different kids when I get home from a deployment and I see how much they've grown. They're teenagers now, so they're a handful, too. I'm proud that I did my time for my country, you know, but I don't ever want to leave them again. My ex-wife wasn't too happy that I left them when I went to Mosul this last time, but, you know how it goes…that's the breaks, right?"

"Yeah. Sometimes you gotta do shit you don't wanna do, 'cause it's the right thing to do. I'm in the same goddamn boat…", Booth commiserated as he spread some jelly on his toast. "Jesus, I hate it when that happens…having to be a fucking hero..."

"Yeah, it's a fucking pain in the ass to be so goddamn patriotic, ain't it?…" His companion took a sip of his coffee and sighed. The men ate in silence for a few minutes, watching the wall mounted television as it broadcasted the daily news from some major European city. Booth was concentrating on his scrambled eggs when he heard the Marine give out a low wolf whistle next to him.

"Jesus H. Christ...Will you get a load of that one? She's fucking gorgeous, ain't she? Look at them nice perky boobs. Man, I'd like to get a piece of her…"

Glancing up at the television, Booth felt his stomach drop to his toes as he saw Hannah Burley reporting on something that had occurred overnight in London. She was the consummate professional, looking almost pleasant as she reported on Prince William's meeting with the Archbishop of Canterbury, her voice cautiously modulated as she wore her television reporter's artificially frozen smile. Feeling nauseous as a wave of loathing washed over him, Booth pushed his plate away as he blew out a sigh. "Trust me, my friend...you do not want anything to do with that one."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Sarge? I mean, look at how that cute little red dress shows off those curves...those legs...and all that long blonde hair...and those big blue eyes. She's practically a goddamn sex doll, you know? She's definitely fuckworthy…" The Marine watched Hannah on the television for a minute before breaking into a lewd grin. It soon became obvious that the news was no longer as important to the man as Hannah's sex appeal was. "Anyway, how do you know she'd be trouble? She might be a real nice girl...you know, a girl who'd want to help a down on his luck soldier by giving him a nice long layover, if you catch my drift..."

"Yeah…" _I guess that's what she did for me, right? She helped this down his luck GI, alright...almost helped me make it to the looney bin…_ Scoffing in disgust, Booth motioned for the waitress to bring him the check for his meal. "Give me a break, Gunny. When was the last time you saw a woman who looked as good as that one does who wasn't a shitload of trouble? Look at her...you know she's gotta be a real high maintenance woman, right? I don't even have to know her personally to know she's gonna think of herself before anyone else, and she's gonna use any means necessary to get ahead in life, even if it means selling out people who are supposed to be her friends." Hoping his bitter tone wasn't giving too much away about his personal feelings for the reporter, Booth drained his coffee cup before he turned to his breakfast companion. "Good luck...safe trip going home…"

"Okay…" Surprised at Booth's vehement reaction to the woman on the television, the Marine shrugged and ate another bite of his meal. "Yeah, good luck to you, too, Sarge…", he said as he watched Booth hurriedly pay for his meal and walk quickly away from the diner.

Oooooooooo

Booth sat at the gate, waiting for his flight to Frankfort, clenching his fists as he tried to regain his composure. _I'm an Army Ranger, goddammit! A trained sniper for Christ's sake! An FBI Special Agent in Charge! I've faced all sorts of dangerous situations...And still...I let a 2 minute video clip of my former girlfriend shake me up like that. What kind of loser am I, anyway? God, I need Bones right now…_

Just thinking about his beautiful Bones helped Booth relax a bit. He inhaled sharply as he willed himself to be calm. _Why did I ever think Hannah was beautiful? Compared to Bones, she's nothing special._ He pulled out his phone and smiled when he saw the picture of Bones sitting with him on the park bench from the past weekend. Even though she was windblown, with wisps of auburn hair framing her face, and dressed in an old sweatshirt and faded jeans, she was breathtaking...the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. He stared out the window as the planes moved up and down the runways. _I can't believe I left Bones to do this job. If I'd known what Hannah had done...if I'd only known, maybe I wouldn't have taken on this project to begin with, and then I'd be home with Bones in my arms, right where she's always belonged..._

The gate agent announced that the flight for Frankfurt was ready for boarding. Sighing heavily, Booth picked up his bag and got in line with the rest of the passengers. _Too bad I can't do anything about that now…_

Oooooooooo

Booth strode down the busy concourse of the Frankfurt airport, keeping an eye out for someone who looked like they might've been sent to meet him. Finally he saw a cardboard sign in the crowd with his name on it. "Hey…", he said as he saluted the young soldier holding up the sign. "I'm Sergeant Major Booth…" Glancing at the corporal, Booth shook his head as he laughed out loud. "Corporal, does your mama know where you are?" Giving the young man a teasing wink, Booth stood with his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you even old enough to drive? I know you're not shaving yet…"

The young man drew himself up to his full height, standing ramrod straight as he introduced himself with a good natured grin. "Actually, I'm 21, Sergeant Major Booth, sir, and I have to shave everyday. I'm Corporal Julio Ramirez...I'll be your driver today, sir. I assume you'll need to pick up your duffle bag in the baggage claim area…"

"Nice to meet you, Corporal. At ease...and enough of that sir shit." Booth chuckled as they walked in the direction of the baggage claim area. "Yeah, I've got a bag." Shaking his head at the younger man's serious demeanor, he offered a friendly smile. "You can relax, Ramirez. It's not like I'm a real VIP, okay? I'm just in town for a little while, and I need someone to take me to the installation at Wiesbaden…and I guess you were the lucky one who got the orders."

"Yes, sir...I mean, Sergeant Major." Booth's duffle bag tumbled down the baggage chute and came around on the carousel toward them. "Major Tomacek said you were an important person, and that's good enough for me. If you'll allow me..." Ramirez picked up Booth's duffle bag and threw it over his shoulder before pointing toward the terminal door. "The car is parked in that lot over there…"

The thirty minute drive between Frankfurt and Wiesbaden was mostly silent, broken up by short bursts of small talk between the two soldiers as they discussed the weather and the autobahn speed limits. Closing his eyes as he leaned back against the seat of the car, Booth felt his energy ebb as he realized he'd been traveling for almost 30 hours.

The car pulled onto the base and Corporal Ramirez parked in front of a nondescript concrete block building in the middle of the compound. "Your quarters are in here, Sergeant Major." They checked in with the woman at the front desk, and Ramirez followed Booth up to his room, still carrying his bag. "Major Tomacek says for you to make yourself at home for a few hours, but he wants to meet with you in his office at 1600 hours." Ramirez gestured for Booth to look out the room's small window. "His office is in that tan building over there, on the first floor. He also told me to tell you that you don't need to shave before your meeting…" Thinking that last comment was strange, Ramirez shrugged as he grinned at Booth. Who really knew what brass was thinking most of the time, anyway? "He said if you have any questions, you can call his office…just tell the switchboard to put you through."

Scratching the stubble on his chin, Booth grinned. "Okay. Thanks for hauling my bag upstairs for me, Ramirez."

The young corporal saluted Booth before he turned to leave. "My pleasure. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Yeah…thanks." Booth returned the salute and closed the door behind Ramirez, sighing heavily. "Fat chance of that." He took a few minutes to inspect his quarters. There was a twin size bed with a low two drawer chest next to it, and a small flat writing desk with a wooden chair in front of it. The tiny closet had a short rod and two shelves, and the small bathroom had a sink, a toilet, and a tiny shower. _Not much, but at least I don't have to share my quarters._ Sitting on the bed, he pulled his laptop out of his carry on bag and after plugging it in so it'd charge, he noticed he had an email message from Brennan.

 _Dear Booth,_

 _I know you will most likely be required to remain out of contact with me while you are completing your project, but I thought you might like to have something to remind you of home. Please see the attached photo. I think you'll be able to find a use for it._

 _Love,_

 _Bones._

Clicking on the attachment icon, Booth gasped audibly as the picture appeared on the screen. Somehow his extremely intelligent girlfriend had used her genius powers to take a picture of her reflection in the full length mirror in her closet. That fact on its own was interesting enough, but the fact that she was posing completely nude in the reflection was even more fascinating. _Jesus, Bones..._ He winced as he noticed his body's urgent response to her image, shaking his head as he lay back on the bed. _I guess it was kinda thoughtful of her to send me a masturbatory aid, although it's not like I need any of those when just thinking about her turns me on. God, I gotta survive this project. I don't wanna kick the bucket and have somebody_ _find this picture on my computer after I'm gone...and I sure as hell don't want anybody else seeing her like this...that's just for me._ Chuckling to himself, he decided he'd better hide that picture in a password protected file named _Fantasy League Rosters._ Closing his laptop, he held it against his chest tenderly as he drifted off to sleep.

Oooooooooo

At 1600 hours Booth reported to the Command Headquarters and was greeted by a receptionist. She checked her computer and nodded. "Major Tomacek is ready for you, Sergeant Major Booth. First door on your left…"

"Thanks." After finding the office he knocked on the open door. "Sergeant Major Seeley Booth reporting as ordered, sir." He stood at attention as he offered a salute to the tall, gray haired man sitting behind the desk. "Corporal Ramirez said you asked to see me, sir?"

Major Gregory Tomacek pursed his lips slightly as he cast an appraising glance at the soldier standing in front of him. Given Sergeant Major Booth's impressive resume as a sniper, Tomacek was relieved to find that the man standing in the doorway looked like a fairly normal human being instead of some crazed serial killer. _Good. He'll blend in easily._ Returning the salute, the captain motioned to the chair across from his desk. "At ease, Booth. Welcome to Wiesbaden. I hope you had a good flight over here. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Maybe a bottle of water, sir, if you have one handy." Booth perched on the edge of the chair, trying to relax a bit, but it was difficult. His nerves were on high alert...he knew that Major Tomacek wanted to meet with him so they could discuss the project. Things were about to get very real.

Handing Booth a bottle of water and taking one for himself, Tomacek stood leaning against the edge of his desk. "The Army appreciates your time and your service, Booth. I know it was a hardship for you to leave everything behind in the States to take care of this problem for us, but we're also very happy that you've volunteered to do this…"

"When Colonel Randall first contacted me about this mission, sir, it was a difficult decision, but I believe I can properly secure this target, and I know that if I'm successful, my work might save several lives, so I decided it was worth it." Pausing slightly, Booth took a sip of his water. "I'm anxious to get started, sir...the sooner, the better, so I can get back home as quickly as possible."

"Good." Tomacek knew there was probably something more behind Booth's willingness to do this job, but since it wasn't relevant to their present situation, Tomacek chose not to press him for any more details. "Let's walk over to the armory…there's someone I want you to meet."

They walked over to a low flat building behind the command headquarters. As they entered, Major Tomacek pointed toward the left side of the structure. "That's the firing range over there, so that'll be where you practice with your new weapon. Have you ever used a Dragunov sniper rifle, Booth?"

Booth shrugged. "No, sir, but I don't imagine it's all that different from my Lapua."

"Well, you'll have a week or two to get used to the Dragunov before the mission. We want you to use a Russian rifle since they're so common in Afghanistan. It'll make it look like one of the locals did the deed, you know? After you've completed the job, you'll leave it behind to be found by the locals...hopefully it'll help take us out of the equation." They walked into the firing range and Tomacek waved to a soldier standing down at the end of the range. "Oh, there's the fella who's gonna go with you…"

The soldier nodded, smiling as he walked down the corridor to meet them, carrying the rifle he'd been using. Major Tomacek turned to Booth. "This man will be your spotter for your mission. Master Sergeant Akram Mohammed Smith...this is Sergeant Major Seeley Booth."

Booth tried to hide his surprise as he exchanged salutes the slender young man. _No way this kid is Special Ops...he looks like a squint._ It was hard to ignore Sergeant Smith's striking features...the high cheekbones, aquiline nose and jet black hair spoke volumes. _He almost looks like that guy whose car got blown up when me and Bones were first working together…Is he from that part of the world? Wow...that's crazy...he's Afghani?_ Realizing he needed to say something, Booth shrugged nonchalantly. "So you're gonna be my spotter, huh? Ever done this kind of work before?"

"Well, sure, Sarge...all the time." Smith's voice had the soft, slow drawl of West Texas. He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave Booth a bashful grin. "Yep, I've been on lots of missions like this…all over the world, as a matter of fact..." His dark eyes danced with merriment as he saw Booth's interest in his country boy routine. "I know what I'm doing. I'm a good'un, sir…you can count on that..."

"You think so, huh?" Booth nodded as he studied the slightly built soldier, wondering if the man's cocky attitude was going to get them into trouble. "We'll see about that…I suppose you know all about what a spotter does, right? You're not shitting me, are you? You got the balls for this job?"

Slightly annoyed with Booth's questioning of Smith's credentials, Tomacek cleared his throat quietly. "Sergeant Smith isn't bragging, Booth...he's quite experienced as a spotter. He was our top choice for this mission. He also speaks Arabic, Farsi, Pashto, and several of the local Afghani dialects fluently. He'll be an asset to your mission if it's necessary to interact with the locals…"

"And I can shoot pretty well, too, although not as well as you can, Sergeant Major Booth." Smith gave him an appreciative smile. "I read through your personnel file, with the Major's permission, of course. He wanted me to know who I'd be working with, okay? Very impressive, taking out a target at 1500 meters….one of the longest kill shots on record, right? I heard the rumors saying that you don't miss, and from what I can tell, it seems to be the truth. That's the main reason I'm involved with this project. I like being on the winning team.", Sergeant Smith said in a matter of fact tone, chuckling softly as he offered to shake hands. "I'm proud to meet you, sir. I'd consider it an honor to work with you on this project."

Booth sighed as he took the proffered hand. "Yeah, thanks." Sergeant Smith's effusive praise was making Booth uncomfortable, and it was awkward discussing his past success as a sniper with someone he barely knew, even if that someone was a fellow soldier. Hoping to change the subject, he shrugged as he turned to look over the gun range. "Look, I'm just here to do my job, you know? Get it done and then go home as soon as possible."

"Of course. That's what we all want." Major Tomacek glanced at his watch. "Hey, it's 1730. It'll be time for chow soon, and I'm sure Booth here is tired after his long trip. Both of you meet me in my office tomorrow morning at 0730 and I'll start the mission briefing then. Then Booth can get to know the rifle a little better tomorrow afternoon. Dismissed."

The soldiers saluted as they parted company with Major Tomacek. Sergeant Smith turned toward Booth and smiled. "Let's head over to the mess hall, Sarge, and I'll explain why an Afghani kid like me talks like someone from a western movie."

* * *

 _ **A couillon is a fool and de'pouille is a 'mess'. Thanks for reading. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Laura**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: many thanks for the kind reviews. They are appreciated. The beginning of this chapter takes place in the evening of the same day as the previous chapter. We're finally going to find out why Booth has taken this project.**_

 ** _Please note...it is not my intent to offend anyone's religious beliefs... Laura._**

* * *

Later that evening, Booth followed Sergeant Smith through the chow line at the mess hall, trying to get a feel for the soldier who was going to be his spotter on this mission. The younger man seemed to chatter constantly, and it made Booth irritable as he wondered if the guy would ever shut up. Booth sighed quietly as Smith nattered on and on, knowing that a noisy spotter would be no help to him at all, but, according to Major Tomacek, the guy had a good reputation for getting the job done. In fact, he'd been their first choice for this project. _I guess maybe he shuts his mouth when it's time to work…_

After filling their trays with the evening's typically bland offerings, Sergeant Smith nodded to a room off to the side of the main dining hall. "That's the NCO dining room." After casually greeting the non-coms who were already seated, Booth pointed to a table by a window, away from the rest of the crowd.

"Let's sit over there. The less chance we have of being overheard, the better. Don't want to give anything away, right?"

Smith shrugged in agreement. "Sure." They got themselves situated and began their meal. After a few minutes of silence, the chatty Sergeant Smith cleared his throat, hoping to start a friendly conversation with the taciturn man sitting across the table from him. Reaching for the salt shaker, he glanced at Booth. "So, Sarge...you married?"

"Not yet." Booth grinned in spite of himself as he pulled out his phone and showed his companion the picture of Bones sitting with him on the park bench. "I think we're gonna make it permanent when I get back. She's the reason I'm so anxious to get this job done in a hurry. I really miss her, you know? I mean, I've only been gone a couple of days and it feels like a lifetime already."

Sergeant Smith let out a low whistle as he looked at Booth with a new respect. "Wow, Sarge...she's fucking gorgeous." He cringed at Booth's steely glare. "Oops...sorry about that. I meant no disrespect. Wait...Lemme see that picture again. I think I recognize her. Isn't that Temperance Brennan, the mystery writer? Man, my wife and I love her books. So your girlfriend is not only beautiful, but she's got money and brains, right? Good going, Booth…you're a lucky guy, ain't ya?"

"Yeah, well, she is beautiful, and she's brilliant, of course, but as far as the money goes, we don't let that come between us. I'm a Special Agent with the FBI back home in DC, and I guess you know she's a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian. We work together, solving murders...we've been work partners for five or six years now." Seeing Smith's surprise, Booth grinned sheepishly. "I guess it just took me awhile to get my shit together enough to make my move, but we're finally together now, and that's all that counts." Gazing lovingly at the picture on his phone before he put it back in his pocket, he glanced at the younger man, knowing he should reciprocate so they could share a common bond to strengthen their partnership. "What about you? You got a family?"

"Yep. Been married to Ziza eight years now, and I got three kids...twin boys and a girl." Smith pulled a picture from his wallet to show his companion. "They're waiting for me back in Abilene, Texas…"

"That's a great looking family, Smith." Booth took a bite of his meal as he looked at the photograph. "Cute kids. They look like their mom, right?", he teased, chuckling at his companion's annoyed expression. "Must've been hard to leave them behind. I got a boy of my own, and how it feels…"

"Hey, call me Rami, Sarge...everybody else does." Rami nodded as he gazed wistfully out of the window overlooking the base. "Yeah, it was hard leaving my wife to take care of three little kids by herself, and I also had to leave my accounting firm in the hands of my partner at one of the busiest times of the year. My daughter, Berezina, is almost a year old, and she's just now learning to walk, so she's having fun exploring her new world, and I was having fun helping her with that, too. Aarash and Aazar, my boys, are seven, and they're playing flag football this fall, you know? I wanted be there to see them play in the final game of the season, but with this project, I couldn't make it." Rami smiled proudly as he talked about his sons. "Aarash has a good arm already, and he usually passes to Aazar, who can fly down that field, carrying that ball tucked under his arm while all the other little kids are chasin' him, trying to pull that flag from his belt...it's great fun to see that, but when Colonel Randall called me and told me about this project...about who the target is...I had to do it. I gotta help take that bastard out, even if it means I gotta take time away from my family. We gotta rid the earth of that guy..."

"Yeah, I get that." Booth pushed his half eaten meal away and took a sip of his lukewarm coffee, watching Smith warily. His gut was telling him something was slightly off with the man, but he wasn't quite sure what it was, and it made him uncomfortable. _I gotta be able to trust this guy, but I'm not sure I can...there's something he's not telling me…_ "I know what you mean. I wouldn't have accepted this job if it had been any other guy. I've got too much to lose back home, but with who the target is…" Booth shrugged as he sat back in his chair, pensively running his fingers along the rim of his cup. "My boy plays some hockey and some soccer, but he's decided that he wants to concentrate on baseball, and he's been trying to learn to pitch in the off season. I was gonna help him out...ease him into throwing a slider, you know, but then this job came up, so I can't be home right now to help him with that, and it bugs me. He's growing so fast, and I don't want to miss anything..."

"Yeah, I know how you feel...", Rami sighed. "...but I guess we've gotta do our duty to serve our country…"

Booth studied Rami carefully, wondering why this guy had left behind everything he loved, until suddenly his gut went into overdrive, and he knew what was going on with the soldier across the table from him. "So I'm betting that this project is really personal for you, right? It's not just about all that patriotic duty shit, right? This is about vengeance, isn't it?"

Realizing he'd been found out, Rami grimaced as he nodded gravely. "Yeah, it is. Very personal." He stared out of the window for a minute or two, lost in thought, hoping to gain control of his emotions before continuing. "It's kinda a long story." Seeing that Booth was listening closely, he puffed out a quiet sigh. "My maternal grandfather was a well educated man...and a progressive man as well. He'd been college educated in England, and he was a successful businessman in Afghanistan for several years...long before all the trouble began with the Russians and then with the Taliban. Anyway, even though it was frowned upon in Afghan culture, he decided that his daughters should be as well educated as his sons, so he sent my mother and her sister to London for their university education, and that's where my mother met my father." Rami pulled another picture out of his wallet to show Booth. "My parents were both college professors...Dad was an American whose speciality was English Literature, and Mom's speciality is Semitic Languages...you know, like Arabic and Hebrew. Long story short, my parents got married and moved to Texas so they could both work at Simmons University. I was born in Texas a couple of years after they moved to the States." He chewed his lip nervously as he glanced around the room. "Contrary to what some folks may believe, I'm a bonafide US citizen, even though my mom was born in Afghanistan." He saw Booth's look of concern and shook his head. "You'd be surprised how many people question that. I mean, I guess it's not my fault that my parents raised me to respect both cultures. My brothers and I learned to speak Farsi and Pashto, like my mother, as well as English, and I visited the country many times when I was a little kid to see my relatives, but I'm still an American..."

"I'm not really surprised that people are so ignorant, Rami. I imagine you catch a lot of flack over your family's background, which is really unfair." Booth paused as he considered his companion's story. "Wait a minute...Simmons is a Methodist university, isn't it? One of the guys I work with went to school there…"

"It's sort of affiliated with the Methodist church, but so are a lot of other things in Texas. It's not as conservative as some universities in the state, so my parents fit in well with the rest of the faculty, even though they differed somewhat from everyone else in regard to their religious views." Rami shrugged as he fidgeted with his silverware. "My dad was best described as a haphazard Christian. I'm not sure he even darkened the church door over the last thirty years of his life. My mom's Muslim, but she's more secular than a lot of folks...she's not nearly as conservative as some people who follow Islam. She doesn't wear a hijab, but she still observes the dietary laws, she studies the Koran, and she prays several times a day, mostly because that's the way she was raised. I guess in some ways it's kind of like how almost everybody in America celebrates Christmas even if they aren't Christian. I know we did when I was young, but we also observed the Ramadan fast and celebrated Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha. It's kind of a multicultural deal, you know?" He paused to sip his tea. "Anyway, even with those big differences between them, my folks were happy together until my dad died a few years ago. My dad loved my mom a lot, you know, and he was fine with her raising my brothers and me in the principles her faith if that made her happy. That was never a problem for us…even in small town Texas. We just minded our own business, and most folks left us alone." He stared at his plate, hoping Sergeant Major Booth wouldn't see the tears in his eyes. "Unfortunately, the rest of my mother's family wasn't so lucky."

Chewing his lip, Rami continued softly. "My grandfather had maintained his estate in a small village outside of Doshi, Afghanistan, for many years, and none of his neighbors seemed to care that he'd educated his daughters in London, or that one of them lived in the United States and was married to a nominally Christian man…that is, until that monster Adelb Ghilzai came to the town about a year ago…"

"Oh, no…", Booth groaned softly, closing his eyes as he heard the pain in his spotter's voice. "How did Ghilzai find out about your grandfather? Did that bastard have the backing of the Taliban? Was he operating in their name?"

"I don't know for sure, but I doubt it. The Taliban at least claim to have Islam on their side, but Ghilzai is just a bastard without a conscience. He doesn't even pretend to follow the tenets of our religion. Anyway, does it really matter? Maybe my grandfather made someone in the village angry, or maybe it was just bad luck...a slip of the tongue around the wrong person." Wiping a tear from his cheek, Rami gritted his teeth, trying to keep his composure as he continued his story. "My cousin Achmed somehow managed to get a letter out of Afghanistan, telling my mother about what had happened. Ghilzai and his men showed up at the estate early one morning and broke down the front door. Then they dragged my grandfather out of his bedroom and into the yard in front of his house...an old man, in his eighties...they dragged him out to the yard, holding him there as the rest of the crew rounded up some of the neighbors to be witnesses. Ghilzai came forward and proclaimed that because my grandfather had allowed his daughters to be college educated and because he still had contact with a woman who'd defiled Islam by deciding to marry a non-Muslim, he was an infidel, and so he deserved death. Then, with no warning, they shot and killed the old man in cold blood. He never even had a chance to defend himself. My uncle...my mother's brother...went to assist my grandfather, and they killed him as well. Then Ghilzai commanded that their bodies should be burned instead of buried, which is forbidden by Islam. Islam teaches that the bodies of the dead should be respected, but my relatives were denied a proper burial. Basically, their remains were thrown away like so much garbage...left for the jackals and vultures to eat."

"Oh, my God, Rami...I'm so sorry…" Booth was horrified, but not really surprised, by the murderer's cruelty. "That goddamn son of a bitch...your poor mother…"

"That's not all..." Rami ran a shaky hand across his eyes, clearly embarrassed at being unable to stop the flow of tears. "Adelb Ghilzai took over my grandfather's house and land for his own purposes. That's why he killed my grandfather. It had nothing to do with keeping the purity of our religion intact. He simply wanted my grandfather's residence, so he took it by force. And that's where we're going to find Ghilzai now. He's moved into the house and has made it his new headquarters. I've been to the place many times in the past, and I think I know how to approach it so we can take him out. I know the house and the grounds well, and I'm fairly sure I can get us in and out easily. My cousin and I provided the intel that the Army used when they asked you to take this job." Rami nodded resolutely as he looked Booth in the eye. "So yes, it is very personal for me. What about you? Why are you here, Booth? I'm sure it has nothing to do with your family...but it seems like it must be personal for you as well. Something important made you come all this way, too…"

Booth stared at the table in front of him, making random circles on the tabletop with his fingers as he spoke softly. "Khalil...Khalil Sattari was his name." He paused as he took a picture of a handsome young man out of his wallet and handed it to Rami. "He was an interpreter for our unit the last time I was stationed in Afghanistan...a young guy, maybe 22 or 23. He was a great kid, happy and full of life, with a great sense of humor, you know? I was in charge of the unit he was attached to...he made a little money for the work he did, but he was pleased just to practice the English he'd learned in school. He had big plans to go to the States and study medicine." Closing his eyes, Booth swallowed hard before continuing. "Anyway, he wanted me to give him some time off to go see his family in his hometown...some little out of the way place about twenty miles from our camp. It was his grandmother's birthday, and his sister had just given birth to a little boy. The problem was that I needed him to interpret for a meeting I was gonna have with some village elders I was working with, so I put him off for a couple of days, and he went on a different day than he'd originally planned." Inhaling sharply, Booth paused as he remembered what had happened. "While Khalil was in his little village, Ghilzai and his crew of bandits came through, demanding money and supplies from the people who lived there. When they didn't get enough stuff from the townspeople to satisfy their greed, Ghilzai's men rounded up a group of five hostages, saying they'd start killing them until they got what they wanted." Booth let go a trembling sigh, shaking his head as he took a sip of his coffee. "They'd chosen Khalil's brother in law as a hostage, but Khalil volunteered to his brother in law's place instead, since he didn't have a wife and kids to worry about. I guess it never occurred to him what might happen. So the hostages were lined up in the square with guns pointed at them, and the villagers brought what supplies and cash they could, but I guess it still wasn't good enough. Ghilzai's men let four of the hostages go, but that bastard Adelb personally shot Khalil in the head, killing him, just for the hell of it, you know? Just to inspire fear among the people who live in the area." Booth looked at the man across the table from him, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "His sister sent me a letter to tell me what happened...telling me that he was dead, and when I heard about it, I cried like a baby. If I'd just let Khalil go home when he wanted to, instead of making him wait a few days, he'd probably still be alive, so that means his death is on me. He would've been home and back before Ghilzai got to his hometown. I want to be able to tell his family I took out the guy that murdered him."

"I don't think that was your fault, Sarge…", Smith began softly. "I mean, it sounds like just bad luck on your part and evil on the part of Ghilzai. It would've been someone else instead of your buddy...maybe the boy's brother...or some other poor fella..."

"Yeah, maybe part of it was bad luck, but part of it was me being selfish, trying to take the easy way out instead of thinking of someone else. I was his commanding officer, so to speak, and it was my decision to make him wait to take his leave, and that decision led to his death." Booth's fists clenched with rage as he once again considered what had happened to the young man. "So now, I have to take Adelb Ghilzai out to make amends for Khalil's death…" Booth sighed as he took another sip of his coffee. "Just what I need...another stain on my soul…"

"Ghilzai's a wanton criminal, Booth...a sadistic criminal and a killer...a mercenary and a known terrorist. You know that, right? He's got ties to all sorts of terrorist cells in that area. I don't understand how your religion could consider this to be a mark against your soul, when you're doing the world a favor. Besides, the real problem is that the Afghans don't want to be responsible for taking out one of their own, so they want the US Army to do it for them, as one of their allies in the war on terror. One of their big shots had made a formal request to the US government a couple of years ago, wanting to have this guy taken out, and the brass was interested, since he's so terrible, but our guys could never get the goods on where the son of a bitch was hiding...until now. They figure Ghilzai is personally responsible for hundreds of deaths of Afghan citizens, and maybe some American operators as well..."

"...and we'll save hundreds of other lives by taking him out. Yeah, I know the drill. That's the line they keep feeding us, ain't it? They always give us that shit..." Booth picked at the leftovers on his plate for a few minutes before looking up at Rami. "Does the brass know just how personal this job is for you? That it's a family matter? You know, I'm not really into being a tool of personal revenge for your family. I'm not some sort of avenging angel, okay? I got enough shit built up from my previous jobs to carry around in my soul without carrying around that sort of goddamn baggage on top of it..."

Avoiding Booth's icy stare, Sergeant Smith squirmed in his seat slightly as he shook his head. "Of course not. I mean, they know I still have relatives in Afghanistan, but they didn't ask a lot of questions when I supplied them with the intel on Ghilzai. They asked me to be your spotter on this job, because, with me being Afghani and speaking the language, I can blend into the scenery really well, and they also know that I'm familiar with the place. It was just gravy for me when I found out who the target was. No way I'm gonna tell them how my family is mixed up with this. I just want to be there when that bastard goes down."

"I guess we can arrange that." Booth grimaced as he thought over the situation. He hoped that Rami's personal vendetta against Adelb Ghilzai wouldn't affect their project. Normally it was important for Booth's emotional health to remain clinical and separate from his target, and to know very little of the situation behind the assignment. This time, however, things would be different...very different. Booth cringed inwardly when he realized that he felt satisfied as he thought about Ghilzai having to pay the ultimate price for all of the acts of violence he'd committed against so many innocent people. Glancing at his watch, Booth yawned and shook his head. "Listen, I'm beat. I'm gonna turn in for the night. Major Tomacek said 0730 tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah." Rami stood up from the table and picked up his tray. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah. Night." Booth picked up his tray and put it on the dish cart before leaving the mess hall and heading back to his tiny quarters. Suddenly he was completely exhausted, but he wondered if he'd actually sleep with all the horrible deeds of Adelb Ghilzai racing through his head. He stripped down to his boxers and tee shirt and stretched out on the bed, looking at Bones' picture on his laptop again. She was so beautiful...he hoped one day she'd understand why he had to take this mission...why he had to take out this target. Closing down his laptop, he stared at the darkened ceiling of his room, trying to relax as he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. His eyelids slowly started to droop as sleep overtook him, allowing him to dream of his lover once again….

Oooooooooo

Angela Montenegro shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable as she sat at a tiny table in the trendy cafe. _This baby needs to hurry up and get born...I'm so tired of having my bladder squashed like an overripe grape..._ She checked the time on her phone for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was almost noon, and Brennan should be there to meet her for lunch any minute. Glancing over the menu again, Angela sighed, realizing that she'd made a mistake in letting Brennan choose the place to eat. The Vegetable Patch Restaurant specialized in vegetarian dishes, but right now, Angela was craving a thick, juicy, genuine Angus beef hamburger with a couple of thick slices of cheddar melted on top, and she was unconvinced that the veggie burger on the menu was going to cut it. Shifting in her seat again, she grimaced as her baby kicked her sharply. "Ow! Listen, that's enough dancing in there, kiddo. You'll be out soon enough. Kicking Mommy isn't gonna help hurry things along."

"Who are you talking to, Angela?" Brennan stood at the table with a quizzical look on her face. "Oh, I understand...you're talking to your fetus. You are correct. The gestation period for your child has almost ended, and it should be born soon." As she sat down at the table and accepted a menu from the waiter, Brennan smiled at her friend. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a beached hippopotamus wearing clothes that are at least three sizes too small." Angela tried to smile as she pulled at the elastic waistband of her pants. "I'm gonna pop any minute…"

"A beached hippopotamus? Hippopotami are freshwater organisms. They wouldn't be found on a seashore..." Brennan's brow furrowed as she tried to understand Angela's description before it dawned on her what her friend had meant. "Oh, now I understand. You are attempting to use hyperbole to underscore the vast amount of your discomfort. That makes sense."

"Yeah...I guess that's what I was doing. Anyway, I'm so ready for this kid to be born it isn't even funny." Angela glanced at her friend, surprised at how pleasant and relaxed Brennan looked at the moment. The cheerful dining companion Angela saw today was the polar opposite of the morose woman she'd had lunch with a week ago. Arching an eyebrow as Brennan ordered lunch, Angela's relationship alarm went off. _Oh my God! Brennan's been with someone...she's got that orgasm afterglow…and she needs to tell me everything!_ "So you seem very happy today, Sweetie. You know, I was really worried about you the last time we had lunch together...you seemed so depressed."

Brennan hesitated slightly, adding fuel to Angela's suspicious fire. "Well,", Brennan began slowly, shyly avoiding eye contact with her friend. "As you may remember, I've had a major case of writer's block recently, but over the weekend I came up with a satisfactory idea for the book I've been writing. Since the last time I saw you, I've outlined the rest of the book, including a surprise ending, and that has made me feel quite relieved. I'll be able to meet my editor's deadline, and that makes me happy as well. My editor was very pleased with my efforts."

Angela nodded as she pursed her lips. She was certain the radiant smile on Brennan's face wasn't entirely caused by finishing her manuscript. "Are you sure that's all, Sweetie? Because you look really, really happy...like sexually satisfied happy…"

"What?" Completely caught off guard, Brennan rolled her eyes as she chuckled at her friend. "I don't know what you're talking about, Angela. I look the same way today as I looked last week or two weeks ago…"

"Nope. Last week you sounded like Eeyore…" Angela took a sip of her water, waiting for Brennan to process her statement.

"What is an Eeyore?" Brennan shot a questioning look at her friend. "That doesn't sound very pleasant."

"Oh, believe me, it's not. Eeyore is a character in _Winnie the Pooh,_ a children's book, who's always sad and depressed no matter what the situation is. He can never see a bright side to anything. I was concerned, Bren...like maybe you should talk to Sweets concerned...because you were so down last week, but today you seem 110 percent better…"

"There can't be 110 percent…" Brennan saw Angela's smirk. "Oh, right. More hyperbole. But really, not that much has changed in the last week…"

Angela chuckled as she took another sip of water. "I don't believe you, Bren. Trust me. I know the 'I've recently enjoyed some sexy times with a hot man' grin you're wearing, so spill. Who is it?" Angela narrowed her eyes at Brennan as she rubbed her abdomen. "It's not a good idea to lie to someone in my condition, you know…premature labor and stuff like that..."

Scoffing at Angela's overly dramatic pout, Brennan shook her head. "I'm not lying…really..." She paused as the waiter brought their meals. "I just don't know how much I can tell you right now…" She kept her eyes focused on her plate as she added a spoonful of dressing to her salad. "There are other things besides sex to consider…"

"I hope it wasn't that creep Rick." Angela scowled as she ate a french fry. "I don't think he's the right guy for you…I don't think he's trustworthy at all. He's also pretty disgusting..."

"Angela, you don't think any man is the right man for me." Brennan glared at her friend as she stabbed at her salad. "You haven't liked any of my recent male companions. First you disapproved of Andrew, and then Rick...even though you were the person who suggested Rick in the first place..."

"Well, I'll admit...that was a mistake. I didn't realize what a perv he was, or I never would have suggested that you go out with him, okay? Anyway, it's not actually true that I disapproved of all of your men. I liked one of them…" Angela furtively watched Brennan's reaction as she continued. "But we both know what happened with that. Baghdad Barbie shot that all to hell." Hearing Brennan's small gasp, Angela was surprised to see a bit of pink appear on Brennan's cheeks.

"Brennan! You're blushing! Wait...wait just a minute." Angela smiled as she saw Brennan's stunned expression. "It's him! It's Booth, isn't it?! But he and Hannah are engaged, right? Or are they?" Angela let loose a loud, happy squeal, causing the other diners to turn in their direction. "What happened between them? They broke up, right? When? How? What's going on? You have to tell me, Sweetie…have you been sleeping with Booth?"

"Keep your voice down!", Brennan hissed, putting her finger to her lips as she looked around the restaurant. "People are staring…"

"I don't care!" Angela rolled her eyes at Brennan. "Let'em stare. I'm nine months pregnant. Nobody cares how I act." She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. "Now...no more stalling or I'll squeal some more. Tell me what happened with Booth…"

Knowing her secret had been discovered, Brennan sighed as she glanced around the room. Angela's tenacity was legendary, and she'd never let Brennan leave the restaurant until she heard the full story. "I went for a jog last Saturday morning, and Booth was at the park. I tried to avoid speaking to him, but you know Booth...he never gives up once he sets his sights on a goal. He came by my apartment later that day to see me, and he told me that Hannah had left him. That's the gist of it…"

"And?" Angela grinned at her friend before taking a bite of her sandwich. "You're telling me he dropped this information bomb on you and then he just left?"

"No, he stayed for dinner…" Brennan sipped her tea, wanting to avoid eye contact with Angela. "We had Thai…"

"And then he went home to his cold, lonely apartment and slept in his bed all by himself...NOT! C'mon, Brennan...Booth stayed the night, didn't he? And there was sex...lots and lots of sex, right?" Angela laughed out loud. "It's about time you two finally got together…I knew Hannah was just a temporary fix for his broken heart. And I bet it was wonderful, wasn't it? I bet he's such a good lover...okay, I need details..."

"I don't understand, Angela...a temporary fix? Oh, because of the whole time apart between us was such an ordeal. I see." Brennan took a bite of her eggplant parmigiana. "I thought you might think I did the wrong thing, not putting Booth off for a period of time...not 'making him beg', so to speak…" Brennan sighed as she glanced up at Angela and shrugged a shoulder. "...but I...I've always cared for him…even when he was engaged to Hannah…I never stopped caring for him, and I decided it was ridiculous to make both of us suffer based on some perverse adolescent dating custom." A dreamy smile flitted across her face. "And yes, he is very well versed in the art of making love...and, as you have surmised, I'm quite satisfied with him in that regard."

"Oh, Sweetie…", Angela sighed happily. "I know you've been in love with him for a long time, and if you're happy with him, I'm happy for you. Don't worry about what anyone else says, okay? That whole 'making the guy beg' thing is overrated anyway." Angela wiped her mouth with her napkin and put it next to her plate. "So now what happens? Is he going to move in with you? Are you gonna make it permanent?"

"I don't know yet. Booth's going to be out of town for a few months...he's taken on a job for the Army…" Brennan bit her lip, hesitating slightly before she continued. "I can't tell you anything else about what he's doing with his project, so please don't ask me for more details. I just have to wait for him to come home, and then we'll go from there…"

"A 'project'? Oh, no…" Angela reached over and patted Brennan's hand. "I know you must be worried about that. Listen, if you need anything…"

"Thanks, Angela, but I'll be fine...anyway, you'll need to use your energy to take care of your newborn infant instead of worrying about me." Brennan saw Angela's eye roll before she continued. "Actually, however, there is one thing you can do for me...you have to keep this information a secret, even from Hodgins. That is imperative for Booth's safety."

"But everyone at the lab knows he'll be gone for a few months…", Angela argued. "That's no secret…and it's not like you gave me any details..."

"But you can't say anything about our discussion of his project to anyone. Promise me…"

"Alright. I promise, if that's what you want." Angela nodded in agreement, much to Brennan's relief.

"Thank you." Brennan handed the bill for lunch and her credit card to the waiter. "And if I do need anything else, I'll be sure to let you know."

Angela groaned as she rose from her chair. "Good. Now, if you don't mind, I need to head for the ladies' room before I go home…"

"Of course. I'll talk to you soon. Make sure Hodgins calls me as soon as you begin labor…" Brennan beamed as she watched Angela pat her abdomen. "Good bye, Angela...I'll see you in a day or two…"

"I hope I see you that soon. We just need the baby to agree, right?" Angela hugged Brennan. "Bye, Sweetie." She watched as Brennan left the cafe and hurried across the street. Shaking her head, Angela murmured to her unborn child. "Well, little one...we need your Uncle Booth to get home safely to take care of your Aunt Bren, don't we? At least Brennan is happy now...I just hope nothing happens to change that…"

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading. If you have time, please let me know what you think of the story so far...**_


	10. Chapter 10

**_Thank you for your continued interest in my story. Your reviews are appreciated._**

 ** _FYI: the weapons officer who is training Booth has the rank of Chief Warrant Officer (CWO) and, according to my research, as such he is addressed as Mister or Chief. Odd, but true._**

 ** _If you have time to leave a review after reading, I'd appreciate it. Laura._**

* * *

It was 0720 the next morning as Booth stood in the doorway of Major Tomacek's office. "Sergeant Major Booth, reporting for our meeting, sir." Booth saluted and stood at attention, waiting to be recognized by his commanding officer.

"At ease, Booth. Come on in." Major Tomacek walked over to a long table in the middle of his office. "How about some coffee? You might need it this early in the day." He pushed some papers out of the way, stacking them up to clear some places at the table for them to work. "Here, have a seat." The major filled a coffee mug for Booth and passed it to him. "Black, right?"

"That'll work. Thank you, sir." Booth sat down at the end of the table and stirred some sugar into his coffee, muttering to himself in annoyance. He hated making excuses for things, but he didn't really have a choice this time. Clearing his throat, he began the little speech he'd rehearsed on the way to the major's office. "Sergeant Smith will be here shortly, sir. He regrets that he might be a few minutes late for our meeting this morning, but he needed to attend to an urgent personal matter...pertaining to something that has happened back home. He said it was unavoidable, and he requests your understanding in this matter... "

"Hmm. Unavoidable? So he comes all this way to do this job, and then he has an unavoidable personal matter back home? Wonderful...that's just fucking wonderful. Seems like you and me having to wait on him is unavoidable, too. Typical Army shit...hurry up and wait. Everybody's got to deal with the waiting around, right? It's the Army way..." Obviously irritated, the major shook his head as he sat down opposite of Booth. "What's your take on Smith, Sarge? From what I've read in his file, he's a damn good spotter, even if he is a young fella. However, with you being the one who's taking the shot, it's your call on whether or not you want use him on this mission. His service record is clean, and I suppose he didn't obtain the rank of Master Sergeant by accident, so I guess the big question is whether or not you're going to have any trouble working on this project with a guy who's of Afghan descent. If you do have an issue with it, we can get someone else, but it'll put us a week or two behind on getting the job done, which is cutting it kinda close to the deadline." Tomacek cast an appraising eye at Booth, trying to get a feel for the man across the table from him. The sergeant major seemed to be a decent guy, but Major Tomacek couldn't take any chances when it came to insuring the success of the upcoming project. If there was a problem of any sort between the two men, it had to be corrected immediately, even if it meant getting a different partner for Booth. "Say the word, and we'll get someone else here as soon as we can."

"Hell, no. Of course, it's no problem. Why would I even care? If he can do the job as well as you say he can, I don't care if his family's from Mars. I'm working with him, not his relatives." Realizing he probably sounded snarky, Booth dialed back the sarcastic tone a bit as he continued. "Sorry if it seems like I've got a short fuse, sir, but it bugs the shit out of me when people think like that about other people. I mean, people can't help who their parents are, you know? He has no control over where his ancestors came from. From what you've said, Sergeant Smith's record appears to be exemplary, and based on my conversations with him, I'd say he's an honest man and as loyal to his country as any other soldier in the US Army." Shrugging as he sipped his coffee, Booth grimaced slightly. "Besides, it's not my call on who I work with, sir. You give the orders, and I follow them. That's the way it works, right? If the brass wants me to work with Smith, or anybody else for that matter, I can handle it, because that's my job...that's what I do. Personal feelings have no place in following your orders, Major Tomacek. I'm sorry if you were led to believe that I might think otherwise." Sitting back in his chair, Booth chuckled. "I'm just a military sniper, plain and simple, okay? I'm not some fucking prima donna…"

Knowing that Booth meant no personal disrespect, Tomacek laughed as he waved off Booth's apology. "Not a problem, Booth. I like a straightforward man who speaks his mind on shit like that. I'm glad Smith's ancestry isn't a problem for you. A lot of guys wouldn't have trusted him because of it, and who knows? Maybe they'd be right in being cautious, especially when going into unknown territory like you guys are. Afghanistan is a helluva scary place." The major paused as he heard a tentative knock at the door. "Master Sergeant Smith. Good. Now we can finally begin our mission briefing."

"My apologies for being late, sir…", Rami began sheepishly as he offered a sloppy salute. "It won't happen again…"

Booth ran his fingers around the rim of his coffee stained mug as his partner walked in and sat down, wondering if Rami had heard his conversation with Major Tomacek. He glanced across the table in time to see Rami smirk and raise an eyebrow before shrugging slightly. Smith, it seemed, was completely unfazed by Tomacek's insinuations concerning his family's background. Booth shook his head as he sipped his coffee. _Rami probably has to put up with that shit from people a lot…and all because his mother is from Afghanistan...  
_

"Okay, gentlemen, let's get this party started." Major Tomacek handed each of them a set of stapled papers. "Here's the plan as we have it laid out so far. At 0900 hours today you're both to report to CWO Henderson at the gun range facility to begin your training on the use of the Dragunov rifle. Taking out the target will primarily be Sergeant Major Booth's responsibility, but you're going to be trained on using the rifle as well, Smith, so that if for some reason Booth cannot complete the task, you can take over and eliminate the target." Tomacek paused, grimacing slightly at the men sitting at the table before he continued. "Of course, we all hope that doesn't become necessary, but I'm sure you both understand that we must make contingency plans." The soldiers nodded in agreement, each one accepting that the success of the project was far more important than their own personal safety. "Good. Your training with the Dragunov will be intense over the next few days. It is imperative that you become proficient in its use within the next two weeks. Our window of opportunity is closing rapidly as winter approaches. Command wants this project completed by no later than December 1."

Booth glanced through the papers in front of him. "So it's my understanding that as soon as we're both rated proficient we can move forward to the next phase of the project…"

"That's correct, Booth." Major Tomacek shrugged as he looked through his papers. "For example, if you're both rated as proficient tomorrow, you could probably leave for the target area by the end of the week and hopefully be home sooner than we originally expected."

"That's good to know." Booth narrowed his eyes at Rami, who squirmed slightly under Booth's intense gaze. "I don't think either one of us will have any trouble with achieving proficiency, will we, Smith? I mean, since you got here a few days before me, you've already started working with that rifle, right?"

"Um...yeah...well...I mean, I've done a little bit of practice with it, but it's been difficult for me to get a feel for it...I can shoot, but I ain't no marksman...not like you are, Sarge..." Seeing the Sergeant Major's irritated scowl, Rami quickly nodded in agreement. "...but I suppose you're right, Booth…", he mumbled. "I'm sure there won't be a problem with how long my training takes…I'll just have to work harder at it. I guess if you lend me a hand, I can get better pretty quick..."

"You got that right." Booth turned to the major and grinned. "No worries here, Major Tomacek. I'll help Sergeant Smith any way I can, and I think we'll both be ready to go before you know it."

"Excellent. When you're ready for the next phase, you'll fly from the Air Force base at Ramstein to the US air base at Incirlik, Turkey, and then from Incirlik to Bagram, where you'll check in with Major Evans there at Bagram Air Force Base. He'll give you more specific details about the project when you arrive. Any questions?"

"Excuse me, sir." Booth cleared his throat softly as he turned to the next page. "Am I to understand that our mission will be launched from an Air Force base? I was under the impression we'd be traveling to Kandahar…."

"That was the original plan, Booth, but the base at Bagram is a lot closer to Doshi...only a couple of hours drive even in an old jalopy like you're going to use for your project. Logistically, it works out better this way. The Air Force has kindly set aside some office space for the Army to use while this project is active. Nice of them, isn't it?" Major Tomacek rolled his eyes sarcastically at the enormity of dealing with the fucking minefield that was armed forces bureaucracy. "Any other questions?"

Booth shook his head as he looked through his orders. "I don't think so, sir. I think we're good to go…"

"In that case…" Major Tomacek glanced at his watch before he continued. "That'll be all, gentlemen. You've got about an hour before you have to report to Mr. Henderson, the weapons officer." He aimed a pointed glance at Smith. "Don't be late." He saluted Booth and Smith. "Dismissed."

The two noncommissioned officers returned his salute and strode quickly out of his office. Major Tomacek shook his head as he watched them leave, hoping they'd become proficient quickly enough with the Dragunov to satisfy the very demanding CWO Henderson.

Oooooooooo

Booth glared angrily at Rami as they left Major Tomacek's office. "I can't believe you were late for our first meeting with the major, and then I had to cover your ass for you. What kind of bullshit is that? You know punctuality is expected when it comes to mission briefings, right? I don't see how a fucking clown like you ever made Master Sergeant..."

Knowing he needed to apologize, Smith held up his hands in surrender. "Listen, Booth, I'm sorry you had to make my excuses, okay, but it couldn't be helped. I had to call home...my wife sent me an email saying she urgently needed to talk to me about our daughter. Our pediatrician says that my little girl should have surgery to put tubes put in her ears as soon as possible...like maybe later this week...and my wife's a nervous wreck over it. My mother's there in town with her, but still…" Rami paused as he wiped his eyes. "I guess it's not the surgery that's the problem so much as the fact that I'm not there to sit with Ziza while our daughter's in the operating room. What kind of son of a bitch am I, leaving my wife to deal with that sort of thing by all herself while I'm off on the opposite side of the world playing soldier?"

"This is no game, Rami...you know that, right? We're playing for keeps here.", Booth growled before softening his expression a bit. "Look, I get that you're upset about your daughter, okay? If it was my kid, I'd be upset, too, but that's beside the point right now. We both volunteered to take on this project, and now that we've got our orders, there's no turning back, okay? So let's get this job done as soon as we can, and then you can go home to your wife and kids, and I can go home to my girlfriend and my son. You heard what Tomacek said...the sooner we're done, the sooner we can go home, right? So pull yourself together and let's go check out the gun range, okay?"

"Yeah...you're right, Booth." Sergeant Smith inhaled deeply to regain his composure. "But first let's have another cup of coffee before we check in with the Chief. I'm gonna need some more caffeine to deal with that fucking bastard..."

Oooooooooo

Booth had only been at Wiesbaden a few days, but it was long enough to have heard about Chief Warrant Officer Henderson's reputation as persnickety little son of a bitch who seemed to take joy in the fact that he could rule the gun range with an iron fist and no one would dare to challenge his authority. He thoroughly enjoyed lording his position over the soldiers he trained, and he didn't care who knew it. He didn't give a damn what anyone else thought about him, because he was the one in charge, and he could do exactly what he wanted, whenever he wanted, end of discussion.

As the weapons officer, Henderson hated showoffs more than anything else in the world, because showing off with a gun could end up getting someone killed. He'd recently read the service record of one Sergeant Major Seeley Booth, and after doing so decided that Booth was probably too good to be true. A 1500 meter kill shot? No fucking way that actually happened. Henderson was sure that somehow Booth's record had been exaggerated, but if not, then it stood to reason that Booth must be a showoff who relished taking that nearly impossible shot simply to call attention to himself. That was the only plausible explanation for why a guy as good as Booth's records showed him to be had been allowed to separate from the service without the brass putting up a big fight to keep him. Henderson was determined to knock Booth down a peg or two, and he figured he knew just how to do that. He'd make damn sure Booth knew who was boss when it came to learning how to use that fucking Dragunov sniper rifle.

Rami had already warned Booth that CWO Henderson was a miserable excuse for a human being, but Booth had shrugged it off, thinking that there was no way the guy in charge of the gun range could actually be that much of a jerk. Hoping to make a good impression, Booth and Rami arrived at the gun range a few minutes early and reported to the rangemaster.

"Mr. Henderson, sir." Booth stood at attention and saluted. "Sergeant Major Booth. I'm here to begin my training with the Dragunov rifle…"

The short, slightly built weapons officer looked Booth over with a derisive snicker. "The one and only Seeley Booth, huh? Really? You don't look all that special. Somehow I was expecting someone a lot more impressive, especially since you're almost legendary as being a crack shot. I mean, I was expecting someone like Kit Carson or Wyatt Earp instead of some ordinary noncom like you. Anyway, after looking over your service record, Hotshot, I'd expect you to know everything about that goddamn rifle already...there's probably nothing more for me to add to your vast wealth of knowledge, right? You probably don't need me to tell you a fucking thing about a Dragunov. I mean, after all, you got your expert's badge on both a rifle and a pistol the first time around, as I recall...I suppose you got perfect scores, too, didn't you? Thirty out of thirty on both? So I suppose you think you know all there is to know about that goddamn sniper rifle Command wants you to use..."

"Well, sir…", Booth began cautiously, unsure of why Henderson was already so antagonistic towards him. "Yes, I have my expert's badge on both a rifle and a pistol, for what it's worth, but I don't remember if I got a perfect score, not that it makes any difference. I feel sure that the Dragunov is fairly similar to my Lapua, but I know there are some subtle differences that I need to be made aware of in order to be completely comfortable using it under stress…"

Laughing sarcastically, Henderson led Booth and Rami over to the armory locker. "I guess you must've used your precious Lapua when you supposedly made that record kill shot. What was it? Over a kilometer? I find that hard to believe, Booth…there's only one or two guys in the whole world who could pull that off...you'd have to be pretty damn special."

Booth stopped and planted his feet, standing perfectly still as he squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Captain Henderson as the man continued to denigrate him. "You are correct, sir...there aren't many snipers in the world who could've made that shot, but you're looking at one who did. You've seen the reports in my file, right, sir? Guatemala….Kosovo…a couple of special ops jobs that are still classified…"

"Yeah, right." Henderson rolled his eyes as he looked through the available rifles in the locker, pausing as he heard Booth's angry grunt. "Oh, I get it. Did that bastard Jake Broadsky train you to be one of his little pet snipers? We all know what a fine piece of shit that joker is. You know, he's off being a mercenary somewhere in Africa, killing people for the fun of it as we speak. Maybe he not only taught you to be a good shot, but also how to be a no good, cold blooded killer, just like he is." Henderson smirked as he handed Booth a rifle. "So if he trained you, you've got no conscience, right? You don't worry about collateral damage, or whether or not you've got the right guy. It's just point, aim, and shoot with you, right? You just pull the trigger and watch'em fall, and then count up your kills…it seems like I read that you were already up to fifty, so maybe you really are a heartless son of a bitch..."

"Come on now, Mr. Henderson. That's not fair…", Rami sputtered angrily. "Booth's a good guy…"

Booth shook his head as he raised his hand to interrupt the younger man. "It's okay, Sergeant Smith. The Chief here is just bustin' my balls to see if he can get a rise out of me. He wants to make sure I can stay cool and calm under pressure." Booth turned back to the weapons officer and scowled in annoyance at the man. "At least, I hope that's what you're doing, Mr. Henderson. I hope you're not just picking a fight with me for no good reason, sir. See, I'm volunteering to take on this mission for the Army, but if you don't think I can handle it, Chief, for whatever reason, I'll go see Major Tomacek right now and tell him he can get someone else over here to this shithole to take care of their little problem by December 1 . That won't bother me one goddamn bit. I'll just happily go back home to the States and then maybe you can handle the situation by yourself, since you obviously think you're a better man than I am." Setting his jaw resolutely, Booth's stare pinned Henderson in place. "Your call, sir, but I suggest we get this pissing contest over with so we can figure out how Sergeant Smith and I can get rated as proficient on that goddamn rifle as soon as possible."

Pursing his lips, Chief Henderson regarded Booth grimly. It appeared that the very large, very angry Sergeant Major Booth wasn't going to back down easily, and Henderson didn't want to be the guy to tell Major Tomacek that their prized sniper had decided to head back home to the States without completing the project, especially after all the time and money the brass had spent to get everything in place. "Fine. Let's go out to the target range and see if you've got something worth bragging about, Hotshot."

Following Henderson out to the shooting range, Booth nodded with a sarcastic smirk. "Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir. Thank you for giving us the benefit of your expertise, Mr. Henderson, sir."

"Can the shit, Booth." Henderson glared at his two ornery pupils, who were working hard to keep a semblance of proper military deportment. "Let's start with that target over there at the end of the range, Sergeant Major…" He pointed to a paper silhouette approximately 50 meters away. "Think you can hit that?"

"Yes, sir." Booth shouldered the rifle and checked the sight before glancing at the captain. "Do you want the kill shot in the head or through the heart, sir?"

"Why not both? Let's see how quickly and accurately you can take those two shots, since you're so fucking handy with a firearm." Henderson stood with his hands on his hips as he watched Booth quickly check out the rifle.

Shouldering the gun, Booth shrugged. "No problem, sir." Two sharp reports were heard across the gun range before he glanced over his shoulder. "Done. I was right, Mr. Henderson, sir. This rifle is a lot like my Lapua."

Striding quickly toward the target, Henderson began to feel a grudging respect for Sergeant Major Booth. It appeared the man knew how to handle a gun, and the two precisely placed holes on the paper target proved he had a good eye. "Not bad, Booth. Maybe you'll be able to learn something about that Dragunov after all. After lunch today we'll work on your long range practice."

"Yes, sir." Realizing that Henderson had given him what amounted to an apology, Booth grunted. "I'm looking forward to that, sir. Sergeant Smith and I would like to be rated as proficient as soon as possible so we can get our job done and head for home, Chief."

Henderson laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, well, don't hold your breath, Booth. We've still got a long way to go 'til I'm satisfied that you know what the fuck you're doing…"

Oooooooooo

Caroline Julian's voice rose in anger as she stood in Martin Johnston's office. "So let me get this straight...you're the head of security for the entire Jeffersonian, but you have no pertinant information on a man who was supposed to be helping you with a security review?"

Johnston squirmed under her intense scrutiny as he sat at his desk, feverishly searching through his computer files. "I know saw the paperwork on Rick Carothers...he showed me a hard copy when he first got here and he assured me that he'd email me the information for my records, and I remember seeing it when I got it, but I can't find it anywhere…I must have accidentally deleted it..."

"Or you never got it to begin with, and you're lying through your teeth trying to cover your stupid ass." Shaking her finger at the nervous man, she continued to loudly express her opinion about his incompetence. "I think he bamboozled you, and you're just afraid to admit it. I can't find any information on that man...no picture, no prints...not even a damn date of birth. It's like he never existed. He might as well been some bum off the street for all you know, and you gave him access to everything in the museum and the lab based on his word and some piece of paper which you think you saw one time. Add to that fiasco the fact that he's been harassing Dr. Brennan, and you're gonna find yourself in some deep shit, Mr. Johnston. When I get through looking into this situation, they won't even let you be a security guard at Priceco."

"But I know he must've passed a security check, Ms. Julian. The Jeffersonian is too invested in its security to allow someone to work here who doesn't pass a background check…you know that. He wouldn't have even made it to my office in the first place without the proper credentials. Listen, I've worked here for years, Ms. Julian, and I know what I'm doing. I wouldn't have let Rick in the door if he hadn't passed the screening." Glancing up from his computer, Johnston shrugged in confusion. "Now, I suppose it's possible that his information was deleted after the background check was completed...that his record was redacted...but I promise you, I saw it, and he had adequate clearance."

Caroline paused as she thought over what Johnston had said. "Who could delete that sort of thing? Who could make a fella's information just disappear like that? And why?"

"I don't know." Seeing that Caroline was considering his suggestion, Johnston breathed a small sigh of relief. "It'd have to be a federal agency that is used to manipulating data like that...maybe the State Department, or possibly the CIA…maybe they needed to hide him somehow...maybe he had a covert mission. It's possible that his job here was a cover for his real work for some secret government agency. Anyway, I haven't seen Rick recently...it's like he was here for a few weeks doing the job, and then he dropped off the face of the Earth."

"You're telling me that some gov'ment agency went to all this trouble so this man Rick, or whatever his name is, could sneak into the lab for a few days and then up and vanish? Why would anyone go to all that trouble?"

"I have no idea." Johnston grimaced at his computer monitor. "And, unfortunately, I can't prove what happened, either. All I have to show you is my 25 years of experience working here as head of security. I would never knowingly let someone into the sensitive areas of this place...a place I consider to be like my own home...unless they appeared to have proper security clearances."

Nodding slightly, Caroline harrumphed in frustration. Martin Johnston had a reputation for being an honest, dependable man. If Rick Carothers had wormed his way into the Jeffersonian, it wasn't because of something Johnston had purposefully done. "Okay...I'll give you a pass for now, but this isn't going away. I'm gonna find this Carothers joker. If you hear from him, or you find his paperwork, you let me know immediately. I also want any security footage of him sent to my office."

"Yes, of course, and I'll do a search on all of the computers in the museum and the lab to find any other information for you…"

"You do that. I'll be in touch soon." Aggravated, the attorney turned and left the office quickly, trying to figure out what her next move should be.

Caroline checked her watch as she rode the elevator down to the Jeffersonian's parking garage. She was due in court in an hour, so her investigation would have to wait until another day, but she still needed more information. Calling her office, she spoke to her assistant. "I need you to leave a message at the State Department...I want Alex Radziwill to call me as soon as possible…"

Oooooooooo

Karen Howell beamed at Brennan as she gushed effusively over the latest draft of the new Kathy Reichs novel. "I can't tell you how thrilled I am with your latest chapters, Temperance…words fail me..."

Brennan grinned at her companion, quirking an eyebrow at her in mock surprise as she sipped her tea. "That's rather ironic, Karen, since, by definition, book editors deal with words constantly. I'd imagine you would need to have an extensive vocabulary in order to perform your work in an appropriate manner." Chuckling softly, Brennan tilted her head to one side. "Should I give you some synonyms to choose from?"

"Well, that's what I mean...words fail me." Karen shook her head at her friend's lame joke. "Even with my extensive vocabulary, I've run out of superlatives to adequately explain how much I enjoyed reading these chapters. There...better?"

"Yes, thank you. So I'm to assume the chapters are acceptable, correct?" Brennan smiled to herself, enjoying the fact that she was causing her editor a slight irritation with her teasing questions.

"Yes, of course they're acceptable...very much so. They're amazing, actually, especially this one…" Karen pushed a bound manuscript across the table. "The one where Andy Lister is out on bail, and he's figured out that Kathy's new partner, Jim Baines, is a crook, but he can't get Kathy to listen to him because she believes he's completely abandoned their partnership for a life of crime. The way you described the broken trust between them is heart breaking…" Karen paused as the waiter set her lunch on the table. "It's so emotionally devastating...it's like you've actually lived through that sort of broken relationship yourself, Temperance, and that feeling of total despair comes through in your very descriptive prose. I think the readers will really be caught up in that part of the story, you know? The idea that they've worked together as partners for so long, and now Kathy feels like she can't trust Andy anymore? The pain...the loss...the anger...the way you express those feelings is simply stunning."

"That emotional low is what I was trying to portray, and it seems as if I've done so in a satisfactory manner. Now it's time to move to the denouement." Brennan pulled some papers from her messenger bag. "I want to show you my rough drafts for the last few chapters. As you may suspect, Kathy will arrive at the same conclusion as Andy did about her new partner's culpability in stealing the drugs that Andy supposedly has stolen, and also in the murder that they've been investigating. Baines has been using his knowledge of the investigation to keep his guilt as the killer from being discerned. Eventually Kathy will confront Baines about it, and he'll threaten her safety, but Andy will have alerted the police, who will arrive to arrest Baines just in time to keep him from harming her. However, because Andy feels rejected by Kathy, he won't show up at the scene himself, thinking that Kathy no longer wishes to be his partner. Surprised that Andy wasn't with the police as they arrive to arrest Baines, Kathy will have to seek him out so they can reconcile in a spectacularly explicit love scene." Brennan arched her eyebrow at Karen. "Do you think my readers would enjoy that?"

"Your readers will absolutely love it, especially the explicit reconciliation scene between Kathy and Andy." Karen grinned happily as she ate a bite of her salad. "I'm so glad you've decided to allow them to continue their partnership. Now, tell me the truth, Temperance...aren't you glad you didn't kill off Agent Andy? I was right, wasn't I? Kathy and Andy belong together...they've always belonged together."

"Perhaps." Brennan pretended to concentrate on her meal, hoping that her friend wouldn't see the slight blush that was spreading across her cheeks. She giggled quietly as she poked at the salad greens on her plate. "I may still consider severing their working relationship...but I will allow Andy to remain in a romantic relationship with Kathy…"

Karen glanced across the table at her companion, surprised to hear her giggling happily. Never one to be overly demonstrative with her emotions, Temperance had been absolutely sullen over the last seven months or so. Now here she was, sitting at lunch with her editor, happily discussing plans for this book and the next one in the series while laughing over her salad. Something was definitely different in her attitude, but Karen couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

Brennan continued explaining her plans for the next book. "Even with the knowledge that he will be exonerated of any crime, it's still going to take some time for Andy to be reinstated to work with the FBI, and I thought it might be interesting if he considered other options for employment...you know, perhaps as some sort of private investigator or as an insurance claim investigator. I think it would create an entertaining conflict between Andy and Kathy if she is still working as an anthropologist for the FBI and he's working with various other people, especially if his employer or one of his co-workers is an attractive woman."

"That's an interesting thought." Karen paused as she took a sip of her tea. "I'm curious, though. What caused this change in your attitude toward the character of Andy Lister? It wasn't but a few months ago that you wanted to write him out of existence, and now you want to create a whole new life for him. I mean, I'm glad you're going to continue to have him as a character in your books, but you were so adamant about killing him off..."

"Nothing has changed...not really." Brennan shifted in her seat slightly, nervous under Karen's gentle interrogation. "I've just decided to reconsider his place in Kathy's life, that's all. I know you and I have discussed his future in my books at great length, but I also discussed it with a friend of mine, and he suggested that I wanted to kill Andy as an outlet for my frustration over what I had perceived as a failed relationship. However, as my friend pointed out, the relationship hadn't really failed, and that gave me a different point of view on Andy as well. It seems he still has a place in Kathy's life after all."

"I see." Karen smiled as she listened to her friend's explanation. Sitting back in her chair, she nodded. "And this friend you mention...he wouldn't be the FBI agent that originally inspired Andy, would he?"

"Well…" Brennan was about to answer when her phone rang. "I'm sorry, Karen. It's my friend, Angela. She's very close to the delivery date for her child, and she may need me…"

"Of course." Karen arched an eyebrow as she took another sip of her tea before picking up the lunch bill and rising from the table. _Saved by the bell this time, Temperance, but the truth will come out eventually._ "I'll look over these rough drafts and get back to you soon with any comments or suggestions." Brennan nodded as she answered her phone. "Bye…"

"Thank you, Karen. Goodbye" Turning to leave, Brennan picked up her bag and left the restaurant, talking to Angela as she walked down the street. "What did the doctor say? Any day now?"

Oooooooooo

A few days later, Booth was packing his duffle bag as he got ready to leave his tiny quarters in Wiesbaden. After long stretches listening to the constant needling and incessant grumbling from Chief Henderson, both he and Smith were rated as proficient with the Dragunov, and they'd be leaving Germany in a few hours for the next leg of their journey.

He'd made a conscious effort to concentrate on the task at hand, so he'd avoided sending a lot of emails to his girlfriend, afraid that missing her so terribly would prove to be too much of a distraction, and he couldn't afford that right now, not with so much at stake. However, he'd decided that this bit of news was important enough to justify the change in routine.

He opened his laptop and began to type rapidly.

 _Dearest Bones,_

 _Phase 1 of the operation has ended, and we're ready to move to Phase 2. Our deadline for completion is December 1. If things go according to the plan, I should be home for Christmas. However, just in case, I'm attaching a list of ideas for Christmas presents for Parker and for Pops. If you have time to do some shopping for me, I'd appreciate it._

 _I miss you so much. The only reason I'm not completely crazy after being away from you for so long is because I've been so busy training during the day, but as soon as I close my eyes at night, I dream of you, and the dreams are so real. It's like you're right here next to me, and that makes me so happy. Maybe it's because of that hot picture you sent me, right?_

 _Anyway, we're going to take care of our project as soon as we can, and then I'm coming home to you, and I'm never leaving you alone again. I can't wait to see you standing there, waiting for me when I get off that plane._

 _I love you so much...don't ever forget that, okay? I love you. I always will._

 _Booth_

He sighed deeply as he closed his laptop. It was time to head to Ramstein and whatever awaited him on the next part of his journey.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thank you for the reviews. They are appreciated. If you have time to leave me your thoughts on my story, I'd like that very much.**_

* * *

Dr. Camille Saroyan sat at the desk in her office, working diligently on the latest murder case from the FBI. She thought she was close to a solution, but she had the nagging feeling she was still missing something important. Sighing in frustration as she scanned through the documents on her computer, she looked at the X-rays once again. There were anomalies on the bones of both shoulders and in the hands that defied explanation as far as she could tell. _If only Dr. Brennan were here…she'd figure it out after one cursory examination..._

As if on cue, there was a quiet knock at her office door. "Dr. Saroyan? May I speak with you for a few minutes?"

"Dr. Brennan! Hello! Yes, of course! Please come in." Cam happily ushered Brennan into the office, offering her a chair in front of the desk. "I'm glad to see you looking so well. How have you been these last few months? Are you enjoying your sabbatical? How's the book coming along?

"I'm doing quite well, thank you. I've found the time spent on my sabbatical to have been very useful. I've almost completed my book, and I've taken some trips as well, so I'm feeling quite refreshed. I've also kept in touch with Angela, and I expect that her child will be born very soon, so if she needs some assistance as she cares for her neonate, I'll be available to assist her." Brennan shrugged, smiling shyly as she continued. "However, that being said…I find that I've become restless since I have so much time on my hands at the moment…as you know, I'm used to being very busy, and now that my book is finished, it seems that I've become somewhat bored."

"Oh…" Cam nodded in surprise as she pursed her lips slightly. "I see. So...are you considering coming back to the Jeffersonian earlier than you originally anticipated?"

"Yes, if you're agreeable to that change of plans. I'd like to return to work in early January if that will fit with everyone's schedule. I realize that Dr. Moseman will still have a few months left in his exchange year, but I don't think it will be a problem if there are two forensic anthropologists at the Jeffersonian for a few months. The overlapping of our schedules will allow me to ease back into my duties, and I'll also have time to be able to help Angela if necessary." Brennan chewed the inside of her lip, waiting for Cam's approval.

"I think we can work that out, but I'm afraid I must attach one condition." Cam sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest, trying to look stern.

"A condition?" Brennan was clearly surprised by Cam's terms. "What do you want?"

"Before you leave today, could you please look at these X-rays? I know I'm missing something, and while Dr. Moseman is competent, he's nowhere near as talented as you are when it comes to reading X-rays, Dr. Brennan. Please? These remain came into the lab as an unidentified individual, and we're trying to ascertain if it's Vladimir Sodin, the concert pianist who was reported missing two weeks ago. The height and overall build is comparable to Mr. Soden, but something just doesn't seem right..."

"Of course. That condition is easy for me to meet." Brennan chuckled as she walked around the desk to look at Cam's computer monitor. "I'll be glad to help…hmm…" She pointed to the shadowy images on the monitor's screen. "The anomalies on the distal ends clavicles are quite interesting...that sort of roughness would be unexpected in a pianist. In addition, this wear pattern on the humeral heads and on the acromia, olecranon processes, carpals and metacarpals indicates a life of intense physical labor using the upper body and the hands, like someone who did a lot of heavy lifting or construction work...perhaps a man who was a bricklayer or a stonemason. I'd say these bones most likely do not belong to the missing musician...see the extensive arthritis between the joints in the small bones of the fingers? This person would not be able to move his fingers in such a way as to play the piano adequately for the concert stage..."

Camille smiled in gratitude as she turned to the anthropologist. "I knew you'd figure it out in just a few minutes. Thank you. I'm looking forward to your return, Dr. Brennan."

Standing to leave, Brennan returned the smile. "As am I. Thank you, Cam. I'll see you in a few weeks."

Oooooooooo

After helping Cam with the X-rays, Brennan went by to see Hodgins. As she knocked on his door, she was startled as she heard a loud pop emanating from his work area. "Dr. Hodgins? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sure. Just a little bit messy, that's all.", he chuckled, wiping a sticky brown substance from his lab goggles. "I was trying to figure out the boiling point of this solution. It turned out to be quite a bit lower than I expected." He laughed as he wiped his hands along the front of his lab coat. "What can I do for you this morning, Dr. Brennan?"

"I don't need anything specifically. However, I was concerned about Angela's state of mind. I know she was quite disappointed after her last trip to the doctor. Your child seems to be in no hurry to enter the world." Brennan sat down on a stool by Hodgins' desk, sighing softly. "She seemed very frustrated at having to wait so long for his arrival."

"That little guy is taking his sweet time, isn't he? He must know he's got it good where he is...nice and comfy riding around inside his mama, without a care in the world." Chuckling softly, Hodges pulled off his goggles and lab coat and threw them on a nearby counter. "Dr. Bano said that if the little guy doesn't come by himself within the next two weeks, we'll give him an jumpstart. Angie was disappointed, but the doctor said it wasn't all that unusual an occurrence for a first pregnancy to go past the due date." Hodgins shrugged as he turned to wash his hands. "I guess my enterprising wife is gonna try all sorts of things to get the labor to start on its own before then. She added a huge amount of hot sauce to her scrambled eggs this morning. I guess that's an old Texas remedy to help begin the onset of labor."

"I'm sure there are all manner of folk remedies to be found on the internet pertaining to the initiation of labor, and knowing Angela, she'll probably try most of them. Will she be able to work right up until she delivers?", Brennan asked. "I know she must be experiencing extreme fatigue."

"Yeah, she's really tired, but she says if she sits around at home with nothing to do she's gonna go crazy." Hodgins sat down opposite of Brennan and grinned as he shook his head. "Personally, I'd rather have a tired wife than a crazy one." He tilted his head as he studied his colleague with curiosity. "I'm actually surprised you didn't feel a little bit of cabin fever while you were on sabbatical, Brennan. You're not exactly the type to sit around doing nothing, either."

Brennan's brow furrowed as she thought about Hodgins' statement. "While I normally do not like to be idle, I can assure you that I wasn't ill enough to run a fever, Dr. Hodgins." Seeing his grin, she realized what he meant. "Oh, I understand...you're being metaphorical...and you are correct. I've become restless, which is why I've asked Cam if it would be possible for me return to my work here at the Jeffersonian in January, even though Dr. Moseman will still be working here."

"An excellent idea. I'm sure Dr. Moseman won't mind having the help. In fact, I'd say he was quite overwhelmed with the volume of work we do in the lab." He chuckled as he entered some data into his computer. "He'll be glad to have some help. Angela is planning to take off several weeks after the baby is born, but I know she'll look forward to working with you again when she returns." Hodgins nodded in satisfaction. "It'll be good to have you back, Brennan. It hasn't been the same at the lab without you."

"Thank you. Now that my book is complete, I believe I'll enjoy having a set schedule for my workday." She hesitated slightly before continuing. "Have you worked on any cases with Booth while I've been away?"

Hodgins glanced at her in surprise, wondering where that question had come from. He'd long suspected his colleague had been in love with her FBI partner for many years, but Booth's new girlfriend had thrown a kink in everybody's relationship plans. "Yeah, I provided some forensics information for several murder cases we handled together while you were on sabbatical. I gotta say, though...he had a hard time keeping a regular FBI partner. He expected a lot from them, you know, and most of the guys assigned to work with him couldn't even begin to live up to the high standards he'd set." Shuffling some papers around, Hodgins continued his explanation. "I guess he was too spoiled from working with you. And then when Hannah left him high and dry, he became a real grizzly bear to deal with for a couple of months. It's probably a good thing that he had to go on Alpine maneuvers with the Rangers to get some of that anger out of his system." A glimmer of an idea began to form in Hodgins' mind. "Have you seen him recently, Dr. B? Did you get to talk to him before he left?"

Based on Hodgins' question about Booth, Brennan was almost sure that Angela had told him everything that had been discussed by the women the last time they'd eaten lunch together. After all, Angela was not known for being discreet. However, on the chance that Angela had decided to keep certain information confidential, Brennan chose to remain passive. "I saw him a few days before he left for Europe. He seemed to be doing well. I was just wondering about how the workload had been while I was gone. I know Dr. Moseman is not as familiar with using forensics to solve crimes as I am…." She sighed softly as she fidgeted with an empty petri dish. "It seems like Booth had a difficult time after his break up with Hannah."

"Nah...not really. I don't think that's what made him difficult to deal with." Hodgins shook his head as he turned away from her, trying not to laugh at Brennan's somewhat blatant attempt at fishing for information about Booth's post Hannah life. "I think he realized he'd made a mistake trying to get Ms. Burley to make a long term commitment to him. She just isn't the kind of person to limit herself to that kind of relationship, no matter how much she loved Booth. I mean, I guess she did love him, but not enough to stay with him permanently." Hodgins smiled gently as he continued to organize his paperwork. "I also think Booth figured out that he'd asked the wrong person to commit to him. Hannah breaking up with him was kinda like a slap upside the head...I think it got his attention...it made him take a good, hard look at his life, and he reevaluated what he really wanted so he could change things in his life. I think in the long run he was more angry that he'd made such a big mistake, being involved with the wrong person, instead of being angry about her leaving him. Who knows...maybe he had time to act on those changes before he left town."

Feeling herself begin to blush, Brennan rose from her stool. "I see. Well, thank you, Dr. Hodgins. I look forward to seeing you soon...probably when your child arrives."

"Anytime, Dr. Brennan." Hodgins grinned at his friend as she got ready to leave. "I'll be sure to call you as soon as I know anything about the baby's estimated time of arrival, okay?"

"Excellent. Goodbye." Brennan walked quickly away from Hodgins office, hoping she hadn't given too much away. Hodgins chuckled as he watched her leave. Based on the few broad hints his wife had dropped, Brennan had seen quite a bit of Booth before he'd left for Europe, and she was obviously planning on seeing even more of him when he returned from his maneuvers.

Oooooooooo

Brennan laughed to herself as she glanced through the lengthy list of ideas for Parker's Christmas gifts that had been sent with Booth's email. It had always been Booth's philosophy that Christmas was not the time to receive practical gifts, except perhaps for socks, and this list was true to form. It hadn't been difficult finding a suitably flashy remote controlled car, or a new baseball glove, but all of the video games Booth had suggested had evidently been very popular with children in the area, and she'd only been able to find one of them, even after visiting several stores around the city. Not wanting to disappoint either of the Booth men, she found a table at the diner where she could have a cup of hot tea and a salad while she considered her options. She used her phone to search the web for toy stores in the area as she waited for her meal to come, so engrossed in her task that she didn't notice the man approaching her until he was pulling out the chair opposite of her to sit down.

"Hello, Temperance. You look lovely today." The man licked his lips and gave her a feral smile, lifting an eyebrow as he ogled her. "The blue in that sweater is a great color for you...and the fit really shows off your curves."

Glaring at the man across from her, Brennan turned her attention back to her phone. "Go away, Rick. As I've told you repeatedly, I'm not interested in seeing you again."

"Oh, come now, Temperance. I know you don't really mean that." He reached across the table to hold her hand, but she quickly withdrew it from him. "I know we had a misunderstanding, but I think we can overcome it…"

"I can say quite confidently that there was no misunderstanding on my part. I've decided that I don't like you. As a matter of fact, I find you to be a disgusting man. I'm unsure why you find that so difficult to believe. Surely I can't be the first woman who has rejected your unwanted advances." Brennan paused as the waitress arrived with her salad. "You've never treated me with the respect I deserve, Rick. Now go away before I ask the management to have you removed. I won't hesitate to ask them to call the police."

Rick scoffed as he sipped the water the waitress had left for him. "Why do you deserve such special respect, Tempe? Because you're famous? Because you're brilliant and beautiful?"

"No. Although I am brilliant and physically attractive, I deserve respect because I am a human being, and you've failed to treat me as such. You were only interested in me as a sexual plaything…" Brennan's fork stabbed angrily at her salad as she spoke. "You never cared for me as a person. It seems you were mostly concentrating on making a sexual conquest instead of developing a relationship with me. I deserve better." She glared at him defiantly. "Anyway, I'm in a committed relationship now, and the man I'm seeing now treats me with love and respect. He would never hurt me…"

Chuckling mirthlessly, Rick shook his head. "That's not the Seeley Booth I know." Seeing Brennan's surprise, he snickered as he continued. "Yeah...I know all about you and Booth. As usual, he's pulled the wool over some unsuspecting woman's eyes, making her think he's a wonderful guy, and that she's found true love. But he's always been a player, Tempe…he loves the ladies, and they _all_ love him." Seeing that he now had her full attention, he continued softly, almost in a whisper, knowing she'd have to lean closer as she strained to hear him. "I've lost count of how many women that loser's been with, and I bet he has, too. You're just one in a long string of broken hearts and broken promises. You've been used very badly, my dear."

Grinning wickedly, Rick winked at Brennan. "Oh, I know you think he's perfect, right? That he's a good man, true to his word? The noble soldier? Well, let me tell you something, Sweetheart. He's just a wolf in Sergeant Major's clothing. When he isn't in your bed 'making love' to you, he's in someone else's arms getting a dose of the same thing, filling some other woman's head with the same tender nonsense. I bet he told you he had to do something for the Army while he's gone all these weeks, right? He's probably even sent you an email all about where he is and what he's doing, and you love him, so you believe his shit without question, when in reality, he's running around fucking the brains out of every woman he can find between Wiesbaden and Incirlik. After all, that is why Hannah left him...you know that, right? He was never faithful to her, and then one day, she caught him in the act...she walked in on him happily fucking some cute little Chinese hooker in the middle of their kitchen floor, so she decided she'd had enough. That's why she broke their engagement." He shrugged his shoulders at his companion's unspoken question. "Oh, I know you wonder how I would know that, right? Well, he was bragging about it when we had lunch together one day a week or two ago...he was laughing and going on and on about how many chicks he'd had while he was with Hannah, and I guess she had no idea he was unfaithful to her until she caught him with that whore. The guy just can't keep it in his pants."

"You're lying." Brennan took a sip of tea, avoiding eye contact with the man across the table from her. "I don't believe you. Booth would never do that, so go away and leave me alone."

"Why would he never do that?" Rick raised an eyebrow at her as he continued in a smarmy tone. "Because supposedly he loves you? Because he said you were the only woman he's ever really loved?" Oh, come on, Tempe...where's that drive to know the truth at all costs? Surely you didn't believe him when he told you he loved you? Surely you know better than that. Surely you know a pick up line when you hear one...I hope you didn't fall for that old chestnut...the soldier on leave needing love to hold him over until he returns..."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Rick, so go away before I call the police." Brennan took out her phone and looked through her contacts before she held up her phone for him to see. "I'm not bluffing. This is Metro's number…all I have to do is hit speed dial..."

"Oooh...I'm so scared." Rick laughed sarcastically at Brennan's angry expression as he continued. "Yeah, I know you've been with Booth, because he's told me a thing or two about what makes you scream his name...things I'd like to try myself sometime." He sat back in his chair and tilted his head to one side, smirking as Brennan glared at him in disgust. "I also know you believe that Hannah broke up with him because she wanted a better job. That's bull shit. She left him because he's an unfaithful son of a bitch. He had it good with her, but she couldn't take the cheating any more. I know all about that, and I know exactly where he is right now. I bet he told you it was top secret, right? Think again, Sweetie. I know everything. Here's his secret mission...he's out looking for another piece of ass, plain and simple. He likes the exotic ones, you know? He likes the challenge of hunting them down...the challenge of making another conquest. Right about now he's probably looking to give some Afghan babe a ride..."

"That's not true!.", Brennan sputtered, shocked at Rick's allegations. "Hannah left him for a job in London. He wasn't unfaithful to her. He would never do that…he loved her...and now he loves me..."

Taking another sip of water, Rick rose from the table, pushing his chair under the table as he snickered again at Brennan's consternation. "The truth, Darling, is that Booth, in addition to being a gambling addict, is a sex addict. He'd screw the neighbor's dog to get some if he didn't think he'd get caught. When you're ready to accept the awful truth about your darling sergeant major, Temperance, call me. I'll still be here for you...to help you pick up the pieces of your broken heart." Ignoring her angry questions, he turned and walked quickly to the door, glancing back to see the confusion and hurt on Brennan's face before he stepped out onto the street.

Smiling to himself, Rick quickly walked down the sidewalk and stood on the corner across the street, punching a number into his phone as he watched to see when Brennan would leave. Sure enough, five minutes later, Temperance left the diner in a hurry, obviously upset as she wiped her eyes with a tissue. _Good...there's just enough doubt about Booth there in the back of her mind...I can use that to my advantage…_ He spoke sharply to the person on the other end of the call. "It's me. Yeah, listen...I need to get to Bagram within the week. Call Major Jeffrey Evans at the Army base there and tell him to expect me soon. I'll need him to set up a place for me. He'll know what to do. Use my CIA clearance and get me on a flight as soon as possible. Never mind how, dammit. Just take care of it." He hung up and walked to his car, humming a cheerful little tune as he went. His plan was going to work perfectly….

Oooooooooo

It was 0630 when Corporal Ramirez pulled the car up to the barracks where Booth and Smith had been staying. They'd had a quick breakfast before loading up their gear to make the hour long road trip to Ramstein Air Force Base. Once they'd checked in at Ramstein, they were going to hitch a ride on a converted C40 troop transport to make the four hour flight to Incirlik, Turkey, where they'd wait while passengers departed the plane and new ones boarded, and then make another four hour flight to the Bagram Air Force base north of Kabul. With any luck, they'd be in Afghanistan in time for dinner. _Might as well be going to a different planet,_ Booth thought as he watched the verdant scenery rush by the car's windows. _We'll be leaving Heaven and stepping into Hell. Watch over us, Lord, while we're on this mission…_

After getting to the Air Force base and locating the airfield, Booth and Rami quickly piled their gear with the rest of the equipment that was going to be loaded onto the plane. There was some good natured ribbing from the flyboys, who were wondering why two earthbound GIs deserved a special place on their fancy airplane, but soon they were in the air, and everyone seemed lost in his or her own thoughts as they contemplated their destination. Booth sat looking out the window of the plane, trying to relax, but his sniper's senses were starting to take over, so that every little sound seemed amplified, and every small movement caught his eye. Rami nodded to him from across the aisle, pretending to read some sort of sports magazine. Booth nodded back and turned to the window again, watching as the clouds outside the window drifted by. It seemed like it had been years since he'd last seen Bones, and yet, he could remember everything about her...her scent, her laughter, her annoyed teacher look if he dared to enter the realm of gut feelings during an investigation. He couldn't wait to get home to her and to Pops and Parker. He vowed to himself once again that this would be the last time...he'd never take on another project like this again. _I don't want to leave Bones_ _ **...**_ _I want to be with her forever..._

It seemed like just a few minutes later when Rami was shaking his shoulder. "C'mon, Sarge. You need to eat something. It's been a long time since breakfast." Rami handed Booth a ham and cheese sandwich, a banana, and a bottle of water. "It ain't much, but it'll fill you up some…"

Booth grumbled as he shook off his nap and his dreams of Bones. "You'd think with all the money the Air Force spent on this goddamn flying tin can they'd at least have a prettier flight attendant than you." He unwrapped the sandwich and took a big bite. "You're right. I'm hungry. We're almost to Incirlik, right?"

"Yeah...I guess we'll have an hour or so to stretch our legs once we land, but I imagine they won't let us wander off too far. They'll refuel and swap personnel and then we're off for beautiful downtown Kabul." Rami grimaced as he chewed on his lunch. "I hate that goddamn place. I'd much rather be out in the countryside, although it's been a long time since I've been there. Things out in the sticks have probably changed quite a bit since I was a little kid. My mother brought my younger brothers and me to this area to see my grandfather a few times between the Russian-Afghan War and the Taliban uprising. We'd spend a couple of months in the summer, visiting relatives." Puffing out a sad sigh, Rami shook his head. "I didn't get to see my _Jiddo_ at all after the Taliban came into power. For a while he wrote letters to my mother, but eventually that stopped, too…it was far too dangerous for a well educated man to call attention to himself with all the Taliban spies lurking about, waiting to pounce on anyone who seemed different."

"That's too bad. I don't know where I'd be right now without my grandfather. He helped raise me…but that's a long story for some other time." Nodding as the plane dipped its wings to make its turn, Booth sipped his water. "It looks like we're making the approach to the base." Hoping to change the subject to something more comfortable, Booth pointed to the magazine in Rami's seat. "Anything worth reading in there?"

"Only if you like five year old predictions about who's gonna win the Super Bowl...and they were wrong, anyway." Rami cast an interested eye at Booth. "You're an athlete, right? As big as you are, I know you must've been a jock, Sarge. What sports did you play in school?"

"Football, basketball, and some hockey. Hockey was my favorite. You?"

Rami laughed as he pretended to flex his muscles. "For a skinny guy like me it was soccer all the way, man, even though it practically made me a complete outcast in Abilene, Texas. Football is king there, you know? Soccer is a game for little kids and puppies in the Southwestern part of the US. That's why my kids are gonna play football. I'm planning on both of them going to the University of Texas on football scholarships."

Laughing, Booth wadded up his sandwich wrapper and tossed it into the trash. "Sounds like a good plan to me, Rami. Maybe my kid can be a pro baseball player, and then he can take care of his old man, right?"

"Exactly…" Returning to his seat, Rami glanced out the window as the plane began its descent. "Here we go…"

Oooooooooo

Lost in thought, Brennan sat at the bar in the Founding Fathers, grimly twirling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers as she waited for her companion to join her. She shuddered as Rick's words about Booth echoed through her mind once again. As a logical, rational woman, she knew that Rick must be very wrong about Booth. It would be completely out of character for the Booth she knew to behave in that way, and yet, there was still a hint of nagging doubt. She had been separated from him for seven months, and she had very little idea what he'd been doing except for spending time with Hannah, and she had assumed he had been busy working as well. Was it possible that Booth had turned into a sex crazed maniac in his spare time? Surely not…

Her musings were soon interrupted by a familiar voice. "A penny for your thoughts…"

She turned to Sweets and smiled faintly. "You know my thoughts are worth much more than that, Sweets…"

"I know." He smiled back at her. "I was surprised to hear from you, Dr. Brennan, especially since you're still on sabbatical. Given how you feel about psychology, I didn't think…"

"I'm not here to talk about that, Sweets. I do, however, need a second opinion about something that's bothering me, and I know that on occasion you can actually be a logical and rational human being." Brennan gave him a piercing look. "I expect to hear the truth from you about the matter I need to discuss with you. Please do not attempt to hide the truth from me with the idea of simply sparing my feelings."

"Of course. I promise to tell you exactly what I think." Sweets grimaced slightly as he tried to figure out what Brennan was talking about. "Now, please tell me. What's wrong? It's obvious something is upsetting you..."

Annoyed at herself for allowing her emotions to be so transparent, Brennan sighed softly. "Yes, you are correct. Something has upset me." She sipped her wine before continuing. "I had occasion to speak to an acquaintance of Booth's today, and the man said some rather unflattering things about Booth." Brennan chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried to remain calm. "This man insisted that Booth was some sort of sex addict, participating in random sexual liaisons with several different women in rapid succession over a short period of time, and he also said that Booth had been unfaithful to Hannah, which led to their break up. It would be an understatement to say that I was flabbergasted by this man's assassination of Booth's character, but I haven't been in touch with Booth much over the last seven months…"

"Okay, wait." Sweets held up his hand to interrupt Brennan's tirade. "I think we can both agree that Booth is not the sort of man that would pick several random partners for sexual relations. I mean, think about how much he values a personal connection in relation to sex. You've often commented that it's just a biological function, but he always insists that there must be more to it than that…"

"That's true. He's always said that sex is much better when there is love behind it. On the other hand, Sweets, he's a grown man with a strong need to fulfill his physical urges…the urge to mate is a strong biological imperative in all human males. It's necessary to ensure the perpetuation of the species." Brennan took another sip of her wine. "Perhaps he's merely following his baser instincts."

"No, I don't think so, Dr. Brennan. That would go against everything he's believed in for most of his life. The emotional upheaval caused by making that sort of drastic change in his belief system would be too devastating for his psyche to bear. Think logically for a minute. The man we both know would never behave in that fashion, but even if he did, how could he hide such behavior from us? We've both spent so much time with him. He wouldn't have time to participate in so many liaisons. The attempt of this man to vilify Booth is built on complete falsehoods." Watching her closely, Sweets pressed his case. "You certainly must realize that this man's claims are false..."

"Of course, you are correct, Sweets. I don't believe the allegations that Rick has made against Booth. It would be illogical for Booth's character to change so drastically in such a short time. Booth believes in love and marriage too strongly, which is why he proposed to Hannah." Staring into her glass, she nodded. "I feel better for having discussed this matter with you."

"Good. I'm glad." Sweets hesitated slightly before he continued, knowing the next part of his opinion would be awkward for Brennan to hear. "However, I would agree that in some ways, Booth was unfaithful to Hannah, although it wasn't intentional on his part."

"How can someone be unfaithful to their lover and not intend to be that way? That makes no sense, even coming from an overly emotional person like you." Brennan glared at Sweets as if daring him to prove her wrong. "Booth said he loved Hannah, and I believe that was true...that he did love her. I know him well enough to know that he would never be unfaithful to her if he loved her and was committed to her. That doesn't fit his character, either."

"You are correct, Dr. Brennan. However, I believe it's more accurate to say he _thought_ he loved her, and that was the _problem_. All the time he was engaged to Hannah, he actually was in love with someone else. I think Hannah finally realized that he would never be able to give himself completely to her...that part of him would always belong to another woman, and that was the real reason she broke off their engagement. She didn't want to settle for marrying a man who didn't love her completely, which is understandable. However, I'm not sure Booth realized that he felt that way about the two women in his life, or if he did, he chose to ignore those feelings." Sweets gave Brennan a pointed look, wondering if her quick mind would be able to decipher what he was saying.

"I don't know what you mean, Sweets." Avoiding eye contact with him, Brennan fidgeted with her cocktail napkin, unsure if she wanted to know about the other woman in Booth's life. "He was only involved with Hannah…"

Sweets paused, inhaling deeply to steady his nerves. "Dr. Brennan, ever since I've known the two of you, Booth has been in love with you. When you decided you didn't want to pursue a romantic relationship with him, he was devastated, but he tried to move on with his life, and that's why he became involved with Hannah. In my opinion, he was sincere when he said he loved her. However, he was quite conflicted, it seems, because he still loved you deeply, and he could never move past that. He tried to fully commit all of himself to Hannah, but I think somewhere deep down he knew there was a part of him that would always belong to you. In that way, and in that way only, he was unfaithful to Hannah. Booth could never bring himself to give up his love for you." Sweets shrugged as he smiled at Brennan. "Perhaps it would make more sense if I said that instead of being unfaithful to Hannah, he was being completely faithful to you."

"Actually, Sweets, that does make sense." Brennan tried to blink back her tears. "As we renewed our acquaintance recently, in talking to each other we discovered that Hannah deliberately lied to both of us with the idea of trying to sever our relationship. She told each of us that the other wanted to end our partnership, but I suppose she still was unsure of Booth's affections for her, so she hurt him further by ending their engagement. As it turned out, he did not want to end his relationship with me, contrary to what I believed. He said he'd always loved me, just as I've always loved him." Reaching up to brush away a stray tear from her cheek, Brennan continued. "I'm quite angry with how Hannah impacted our lives. She robbed us of seven months together, Sweets…"

"That's terrible! I never suspected that she'd be malicious enough to do that." He gingerly patted Brennan's hand, hoping that she wouldn't injure him for invading her personal space. "I'm so sorry. It did surprise me when the two of you ended your partnership, but I never knew what had actually happened to cause the split, Dr. Brennan. It must have been a painful time for both of you. Perhaps when Booth returns from his maneuvers with the Rangers you'll be able to become partners again...in more ways than one."

Hesitating as she thought about the dangerous mission Booth was undertaking, Brennan nodded as she stared into her wine glass. "I hope so, Sweets. I really do."

* * *

 ** _Jiddo means grandfather._**

 ** _Just to be clear, of course Booth did not participate in multiple sexual liaisons. It's an old interrogator's trick that Rick is using...make the parties doubt each other, and they might turn against each other._**

 ** _Thanks for reading..._**


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N: thank you for your continued interest in my story. I've enjoyed sharing it with you. If you have time to leave a review, I'd appreciate it. Laura_**

 ** _PS: thanks for the suggestion, FaithinBones..._**

* * *

Booth gazed out of the small passenger window as C40 transport made its way from Incirlik, Turkey, to Bagram Air Force Base, Afghanistan. He could just make out the snow covered peaks of the far distant Hindu Kush mountains as the plane flew east into the darkening day. The sun was casting a bright pink and orange sheen across the sky above those jagged ridges as it slowly slipped below the western horizon behind them. He sighed nostalgically as he took in the beautiful sight, wishing his Bones was there to enjoy it with him. He wanted to hear her explain why the low angle of the sunlight made the normally bright blue sky appear to glow in different colors above the mountains. He wanted to feel the soft touch of her hand on his arm...wanted to feel her caress... wanted to look into her beautiful blue eyes and see the love shining in them...the love she felt for him. Sighing again, he shook off his reverie as he gave himself another stern pep talk. The sooner the sniper and his spotter could take care of their business, the sooner he could go back home to her. They needed to get this job done and behind them, and then the farthest he'd stray from home might be to go to see Pops in Philly, but even then he planned on taking his girlfriend with him. Booth's wandering days were over for good, thanks to Bones….

As he'd been traveling far away from home over the last few weeks, he'd been surprised as he found himself thinking about Hannah's travels from time to time. Of course, when they were a couple, he'd missed her while she was gone on assignment, and he was always glad when she got home, but he knew now that the feelings he'd had for his former girlfriend were mere drops in a bucket compared to how he was going to feel when he saw Bones again. As he looked back over the last seven months, Booth was once more filled with regret...regret over hurting Bones, regret over time lost with her, regret over taking on a project that pulled him away from her. He grumbled to himself as he realized that having regrets got him nowhere. He could only move forward now. The only good thing that came from having regrets was the new appreciation of the wonderful life he'd have ahead of him as soon as he got home. Those regrets just made him all that more determined to be finished with their mission as quickly as possible.

Booth glanced across the aisle at Master Sergeant Smith, who was sprawled out in the seat sleeping soundly. He'd made a conscious decision to trust this man, knowing that he'd have to rely heavily on Rami's skills as a spotter and, in some ways, in his skills as an undercover operative, if they were going to be successful on this trip. Booth smiled to himself as his partner turned onto his side, groaned softly in his sleep. Smith was somewhat of a novelty as far as his fellow passengers were concerned, wearing a US Army uniform and already sporting a thick dark beard after only two weeks worth of growth. Scratching his sparse whiskers, Booth grimaced slightly in annoyance. This might be one time when it wasn't a good thing to be highly evolved. He wondered what the brass would want to do about his scruff since most native Afghan men wore beards, and he was supposed to blend in with the locals on this project. _Oh well...it's not like I can grow whiskers on demand..._

It was late in the day when the troop transport plane landed at the Bagram Air Force Base. Tired from their journey, Booth and Smith slowly disembarked and stood outside the plane, watching as their gear was unloaded from the jet's cargo bay. As they were waiting, a jeep raced up to the plane and parked, and a corporal jumped out of the driver's seat. After briskly walking up to them, she saluted as she addressed the new arrivals. "Sergeant Major Booth? Master Sergeant Smith? I'm Corporal O'Hara." The young woman smiled broadly, quirking an eyebrow as she noticed their beards. "Major Evans has sent me to pick you two up and take you over to the Army compound here on the base." O'Hara pointed off in the distance. "It's kind of a hike if you're on foot. Have they unloaded your stuff yet?"

"Yeah, here they are." Booth and Smith picked up their bags and threw them into the back of the jeep. "How far is it to the compound?"

"Our own little corner of Heaven on Earth is on the other side of those hangars down there, Sergeant Major." She pointed toward some metal buildings to the far right. "It's probably about a five miles or so, maybe a little more, and maybe you could jog over there from the plane, but with you having bags and all, Major Evans decided you might like a ride instead...unless you're really tired of sitting around on the plane and want to stretch your legs. If you want to walk, I can just take your gear, but..."

"That's probably why he's a major and we're non coms, right, Rami? We'll take you up on your offer for a ride, Corporal. Thanks." Grinning at Smith, Booth ensconced himself in the front passenger seat. "I call shotgun…"

"Pulling rank on me, Sarge?", Rami laughed as he threw his shaving kit and laptop on the back seat.

"You better believe it. I'll use the privileges of my rank whenever I can if they make me more comfortable.", Booth chuckled as he nodded to their driver. "Home, O'Hara…"

"You got it, Sergeant Major Booth…" Corporal O'Hara put the jeep in gear and off they went, speeding across the base to Major Evans' office. After about ten minutes she parked in front of a dilapidated building made of weathered tan corrugated metal. "Welcome to Paradise, gentlemen. Major Evans has his office on the first floor. If you like, I can take your bags over to the barracks for you…"

Shivering slightly as the chill of the late autumn evening settled around them, Booth nodded. "That'd be great, Corporal...thanks. Hey, which one of those fabulous palaces will Sergeant Smith and I be bunking in?"

"Non coms are in Building B...third one down from here on the left. I think they've put you in 202, but you can check in with the sergeant at the desk there in front, and he'll get you settled."

"Great. Thanks again, Corporal." Sergeants Booth and Smith saluted Corporal O'Hara before she drove away in a cloud of dust. Shrugging at Booth, Rami grinned as he opened the building's squeaky door. "After you, Sergeant Major, sir…", he laughed, smirking as he offered a fake salute.

"Smart ass…" Booth grinned as he returned the salute by sticking up the middle finger on his right hand. "Let's go…"

After checking in with the desk sergeant, Booth knocked on the commanding officer's open door and saluted. "Major Evans, sir. Sergeant Major Booth and Master Sergeant Smith reporting for duty, sir."

Looking up from his desk, the short, squarely built officer nodded nonchalantly as he gave them a lazy salute. "At ease, gentlemen." Waving for them to come in, Evans shut down his computer, sat back in his desk chair and pursed his lips grimly, eyeing the soldiers standing before him with an air of disappointment. _These guys don't look all that special.._. _based on Booth's reputation, I was halfway expecting John Wayne to show up, back from the dead…_ Chuckling sarcastically, he smirked as he waved at the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat, fellas." Ignoring them for a minute, he picked up a file, pretending to thumb through it before tossing it aside. "So you're it? You two are the Army's best hotshot sniper team, huh? Handpicked and sent all the way here from the States to do a special secret mission for Uncle Sam...gonna take out that big bad Afghan wolf for us, aren't ya? You boys think you're really something wonderful, and we're lucky to have you two grace us with your presence here, right? Well, hell, boys...I'm so fucking glad you're here so my boys don't have to mess with that little detail..."

Disliking the major's snarky tone immediately, Booth fixed an intense gaze on the officer sitting across the desk from them. Shaking his head slowly in disagreement, he responded in quiet ferocity. "No sir, Major Evans, sir. Sergeant Smith and I have volunteered to take on a mission of vital importance for the good of our country. Neither of us consider ourselves to be anything other than prime examples of what a good soldier should be like in this man's army. We're proud to serve...proud to do our part in the effort to bring peace to this region. We're not here looking for accolades, sir. We both feel that this is just one small step in achieving the greater overall goal of this military campaign, which is to ensure the future political and economic stability of Afghanistan." Booth glanced at a rather shocked Sergeant Smith before continuing. "Will there be a mission briefing this evening, sir, or would you prefer the morning?"

Yawning and stretching, Major Evans appeared to be bored, shrugging as he took a sip from his coffee mug before answering the question. "It's getting late, Sergeant Major, so we'll wait until 0800 tomorrow morning. We'll go over the mission specs first, and then you'll both report to the Quartermaster, Sergeant Leary, to make arrangements for your undercover gear and paperwork." Major Evans regarded his visitors with what appeared to be disdain before he continued. "You are correct, Booth. This is a very important mission, and time is of the essence. Winter weather will be upon us within the next six weeks, so our window of opportunity for travel through the mountainous countryside is closing rapidly. Also, Intel has it that the target will be leaving the area sometime in the next week to ten days to go to Pakistan, and he'll be practically untouchable if he makes it there. He'll disappear into the Tribals like a ghost in the mist, and, as I'm sure you know, the Pakistani government doesn't like our boys running around out there by themselves, especially if they're gunning for someone. It'd be a long time, if ever, before we'd have another crack at him if we don't get him now, so Command wants this problem taken care as soon as possible. You two need to be in and out of Doshi in as short a time as possible...3 or 4 days at the most. The terrain is rough, conditions are poor, and the locals may be hostile. You think you boys can handle it?"

"Yes, sir...we can handle it." Crossing his arms over his chest, Booth sat back in his chair and nodded resolutely. "Sergeant Smith and I concur with your opinion as to the length of time allotted for this assignment, Major Evans. We'd like to complete our assignment and be on our way back home as soon as possible, and we see no problem in accomplishing that objective, sir."

 _Smart ass son of a bitch, ain't ya, Booth?_ Major Evans shuffled some papers on his desk before continuing, avoiding eye contact with Smith and Booth. "Excellent. I'll see you both here tomorrow morning at 0800. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Major Evans, sir." Booth's words carried a whiff of sarcasm as he and Smith rose from their seats, giving their commanding officer a salute before they strode quickly out of the office.

"Nasty goddamn son of a bitch.", Rami swore loudly as soon as they were out of earshot of the major's office. "What the hell is his problem, acting like a pompous ass like that? The way he sounded, you'da thought we were the bad guys instead of the ones doing the Army a favor…"

Booth shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder as they walked away from the building. "He's just bitter, I guess, and probably under a lot of stress. I mean, he's stuck out here on the goddamn ass end of the universe, probably doing a dull, dead end desk job, but he and his men have to be on their guard constantly because they're close enough to the action to get into trouble if they're not real careful." Booth waved his hand toward the building as they walked away. "No big deal what the bastard thinks, anyway, right? The fact that he's a fucking jackass doesn't need to bother us one damn bit. We'll go do our job for the Army, and then go home and back to our lives, okay? And guess what...he'll still be stuck here in this God forsaken place, right? Sucks to be him, but that's the breaks..."

Somewhat appeased, Rami nodded slightly. "I guess…"

Meanwhile, Major Evans had made a phone call as soon as he knew the two soldiers had left his office building. "He's here. Okay, now listen...no, you shut your fucking mouth and listen to me. I stuck my goddamn neck out for you, alright? No, of course I didn't mention you or tell him anything about that shit. As far as anyone knows, it's gonna go down just like we planned, okay? Yeah, I'm sure. But I mean it...I don't want to waste the twenty five years I've been in the Army for this hare brained scheme of yours, so, by God, you better make sure it works with a minimum of difficulty, got it? Yeah, one week. And keep my name out of it...no, this is as far as I'm going. You're on your own now." Slamming the phone down on his desk, Evans wiped his hand across his eyes, hoping he could somehow justify sending Sergeant Major Booth into a trap from which there would be little chance of escape.

Oooooooooo

After having a cold supper in the mess hall, Booth and Rami headed toward their barracks later that evening. The room they had to share was tiny and sparsely furnished, but it was clean and relatively free of the fine dust that seemed to constantly blanket the rest of Bagram Airfield. Both of them had very nearly succumbed to their exhaustion as they threw their bags from their beds onto the floor and got ready for bed. Yawning widely, Booth shook his head, wanting to stay awake for a few more minutes. "O'Hara said morning chow was from 0630 to 0730. I bet if we want something to eat besides cold eggs and stale toast we'd better be there on the early end of that time frame."

"Yeah, you're probably right, Booth. Hell, I don't even have any idea what time it is right now anyway, do you? Flying across a continent with so many time zones can sure screw with a guy's sense of time, can't it? I'm exhausted, and we didn't even do anything except ride in a goddamn airplane all day."

"Yep, I know...me, too. Funny how that works." Booth plugged in his laptop to charge, and checked his email. "Well, not a whole lot of news from home here...a note from my kid telling me about what he did at school today, and a letter from the FBI that says they've approved my leave of absence so I can attend military exercises in Europe. Good thing, huh?" Booth chuckled as he scrolled through the rest of his correspondence. "I'd hate to fuck with the FBI over something important like that…"

Smith laughed merrily as he nodded at Booth. "Yeah, I guess you'll need to have a job to go back to when we're done with our project here, so it's a good idea to get the Bureau's approval. See, that's why it's a good thing for me to run my own business. I can approve my own leave any time I want." He nodded to his computer. "Look, here's a new picture of my kids." Two dark haired boys were grinning from the picture on the screen as they sat with their baby sister on a porch swing in front of a pleasant red brick house.

Booth smiled as he studied the picture. "They're great looking kids, Rami. You and your wife must be so proud."

"Thanks. Yeah, we're proud of them. They're smart, too. My wife and I have already started a college fund for the boys, just in case the football scholarships don't work out, and one for the baby, too. We want them to be doctors or lawyers...or maybe FBI agents…" Rami grinned as he winked at Booth. "Who knows...one of my kids might even be President someday…"

"Here's a picture of my son Parker with my girlfriend." Booth grinned from ear to ear as he pulled up the picture that they'd had taken at the Italian restaurant. _God...that seems like ages ago...instead of a couple of weeks ago..._ "She works at this big museum in DC...the Jeffersonian...well, you know that since you read her books, right? Anyway, she and her dad have been teaching my kid all sorts of extra science stuff on the side...stuff besides what he's learning at school. I'm hoping he's gonna be a scientist of some sort one day, just like she is..."

"Cute kid...and very good looking girlfriend. Those pictures on the back of her books don't do her justice, do they?" Sergeant Smith snickered as his somewhat enraptured friend stared lovingly at the computer screen.

"Nope, they don't. She just glows, you know? I mean, her eyes are so blue...and not only is she beautiful, she's brilliant, too...but for some reason she loves a guy like me. She must be crazy, right?" Chuckling softly, Booth set the laptop aside, hesitating for a few seconds as his expression became more serious. "Hey, Rami, I wonder if you'd do me a favor…"

"Sure, Booth...whatever you need, just ask." Rami stretched out on his narrow cot and propped his head up on his arm. "Except for lending you money, since I ain't got any…and your girlfriend's loaded anyway..."

"Yeah, great...you're an accountant with no money. Get serious for a minute, okay?" Seeing Rami nod in agreement, Booth continued. "I want to give you Bones' email address and phone number…"

"Wait a minute...you call that beautiful woman...the woman you love...you call her Bones?" Rami lay back on the bed and laughed out loud. "That's just wild. What does she call you? Muscles?"

Booth snickered softly before he continued. "It's a long story, okay? I'll tell you about it some other time. Listen, I'm serious here. I'm gonna give you her contact information in case I don't make it out, okay? Maybe if something happens, and the time is right, you can tell her…what happened." His voice faded away, and he puffed out a sigh. "It sounds weird, I know, but I also know her, and if things don't work out, she'll want all the details, okay? And here's my cell number and personal email, too. Let's touch base with each other in about six weeks after we get home…you know, just send me an email, or call me...just to see how things are..."

Rami scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, yeah...I guess I can do that…"

"I know it sounds paranoid, buddy, but I'd just feel better if I knew that someone was checking up on me to make sure I got home in one piece, and I'll check on you, too. You and I have been on enough of these trips to know that sometimes things come back to bite a guy on the ass, and it helps to have someone to talk to...someone who understands...someone who isn't your wife or girlfriend...someone who's not gonna judge you for what you did while you were gone..."

"Right...you're right, Booth. It helps to have someone who's been there before…" Rami swallowed hard and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let's trade info…"

"Good." The men wrote down the addresses and phone numbers and traded the slips of paper. "Thanks, Rami. Hey, I'm gonna hit the hay...I'm beat."

"Yeah, me, too." Rami reached up and turned off the light, plunging the small space into darkness except for the dim light coming from the bathroom night light. "Night, Booth."

"Night, Smith." Booth stretched out on the narrow bed and stared up at the ceiling, drifting off to sleep as he ran his fingers across the rosary he'd pulled from under his pillow, praying for a quick and successful end for this project so he could return home as soon as possible.

Oooooooooo

After breakfast the next morning, Booth and Smith reported to Major Evans' office promptly at 0800. They exchanged salutes and seated themselves at a long table facing a wall where a map of the Afghan countryside was hanging.

"Here's the plan, gentlemen. You'll be provided with an old pickup truck similar to those that farmers around here use to transport goods to market. Sergeant Smith will drive, and he'll be the main contact between you two and the locals since he's fluent in their language, although I can imagine you can speak a some Pashto since you were stationed over here, right, Booth? Weren't you training some of the Afghan nationals on your last tour?"

"Yes, sir, Major Evans. I can speak some Pashto...words like yes...no...hello...goodbye...I'm hungry...friends...where's the latrine...go fuck yourself...you know, all the important stuff." Booth wore an artificial grin as he shrugged towards Sergeant Smith. "I'll just let Smith do the talking on this trip, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Major Evans coughed quietly before continuing. "You'll take this highway going northwest…." Evans outlined a major road on the map. "It's about 2 and a half hours from here to Doshi. Don't speed or do anything else to call attention to yourselves. You'll be provided with identification and clothing that should allow you to blend into the general population. I suppose you'll have to come up with a story about why Booth doesn't say a lot." Rubbing his chin, Major Evans smirked at Booth. "Is that really two weeks worth of growth on that beard, Booth?"

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Booth glared at the officer across from the table from him. "Sorry, sir. It was the best I could do under the circumstances."

Laughing mirthlessly, Major Evans shrugged. "I don't think it'll be a problem. Here's your contact." Major Evans pushed a picture across the table to Rami. "He runs a garage and auto mechanic's shop on the outskirts of the town. The directions on how to get there are written in Pashto on the back of that photo. When you get there, you're gonna tell him that you need to get your truck worked on…that the brakes are squealing loudly."

"I understand." Impassive, Rami studied the picture carefully. "Is there a code phrase, sir?"

"Yes. You're going to ask about the cost to paint your truck. The correct answer will be 'you don't need to paint that truck'. Got it?" Seeing the men nod, Major Evans continued. "You need to complete your mission as quickly as possible. As I said last night, the target is rumored to be leaving the area soon. Also, the village where the target is staying is small, and newcomers are likely to be noticed, which is exactly what we do not want. The weather is supposed to cooperate for the next few days, but it's likely the area will have a lot of snow very soon, which would only complicate this project. Stealth and guile are the watchwords for this project, gentlemen. Do as little reconnaissance as possible before taking Ghilzai out, and then leave for Bagram immediately when the job is completed. That's the best way to ensure your safety and the safety of your contact."

"Yes, sir." Booth nodded in agreement. The sooner he'd get this job over with, the better he'd like it. "What's the earliest we can leave?"

"Tomorrow morning." Major Evans rose from the table and walked to his desk to make a phone call. "I need to speak to Sergeant Leary...This is Major Evans, Leary. I've got two soldiers on the way over to see you. They need clothes and IDs, okay? Good. Fifteen minutes. Right." After ending the call, Evans turned to Smith and Booth. "The Quartermaster is two huts down on the left. Ask for Sergeant Leary, and she'll get you squared away. I won't see you in the morning...we've got top brass coming in from out of town for some sort of damn Congressional inspection tour, and it seems like you don't need a lot of attention called to this mission anyway, so I'll leave you to take care of things on your end. Good luck, gentlemen. I'll see you in a few days."

"Thank you, sir. We'll report directly to you when we return…", Booth said as he and Rami rose from the table, and after saluting, they left for the Quartermaster's office. They walked in silence for a few minutes until Booth cleared his throat. "Shit's about to get real…"

"Yeah, but the good news...if you can call it that...is that our contact in Doshi is my cousin, Achmed...the one whose father was killed helping my grandfather. He knows my grandfather's house and the surrounding acreage very well. I imagine he's already scouted the place for us and can give us intel on Ghilzai's schedule and habits…" Seeing Booth's frown, Rami was quick to reassure him. "Achmed doesn't want a piece of the action, okay? But it'll be a good thing, having a friend in town on our side, right? We'll have a place to stay, and it'll be easier to blend in since we won't have to make contact with any of the other locals…"

"I guess you're right." Booth shrugged a shoulder, trying to get rid of the nagging feeling that having someone else involved was just going to lead to another problem with the mission. They paused as they walked up to the ramshackle Quartermaster's building. "Well, here we are. Let's hope Sergeant Leary can make me look as good as you do."

Sergeant Smith just shook his head as he smiled broadly. "In your dreams, Booth. In your dreams…"

Oooooooooo

The Quartermaster, Sergeant Leary, cast an appraising eye at her two new customers. "Let's see here…" She looked through the clothing rack and then back at Rami. "Okay, here...this should work for you, Sergeant Smith." She handed him a white, dresslike _perhan_ shirt _,_ some loose brown _tunpan_ trousers, an embroidered red wool vest, a pakul hat, and a blanket before smiling sarcastically. "I assume you know how to wear those things since your family's from this neck of the woods." She eyed him suspiciously. "You look like one of the locals, you know? Good enough to shoot…"

Rami rolled his eyes in disgust. It wasn't uncommon for service personnel of Middle Eastern and Afghani descent to be mistrusted by their fellow soldiers, but it still hurt to be treated that way. "Yes, ma'am. Believe me, at my age, I can actually dress myself." He gestured toward Booth. "On the other hand, Booth here may have some trouble with putting on these fancy clothes…"

"Yeah, thanks a helluva lot, Smith. Jackass..." Booth stood with his hands on his hips, grinning as he waited several minutes for Sergeant Leary to pick out some clothes for him. "We're leaving tomorrow morning, ma'am. Do you think you're gonna be able to find something for me to wear by then?"

"Keep your shirt on, Sergeant Major." She offered him a cheeky wink. "It's not my fault you're taller and a lot better built than the average Afghani man." Finally, she pulled a long gray linen shirt from the rack. "Okay, try this one...pull it on over your tee shirt…and here are some pants…but they won't fit over those uniform pants...you'll need to drop those drawers..."

"Great. Okay, I'm just gonna step over here behind these boxes to change…" Booth took off his boots and uniform pants and pulled on the black _tunpan_. "Are these pants supposed to fit this loose? I feel like a fucking clown, and I hate clowns..."

Trying not to laugh out loud as Booth pulled out on the billowing legs of the pants, Rami nodded. "Yeah...they're actually pretty comfortable once you get used to them. Here...put this black vest on…not bad. What do you think, Leary? He kinda looks like one of the locals..."

"That'll probably work. You'll need some different shoes, though…" She pulled some sandals from a shelf. "...and here's a _pakul_ hat for you, and a _patu._ The _patu_ is kind of like a serape…"

"Yeah, you wrap it around like this." Rami showed Booth how to arrange his heavy outer blanket and the wool hat. "You actually look pretty convincing, Booth…almost like a handsome Afghani man...like me, for example..."

"I suppose you think that's a good thing, right? I'm not sure I wanna look like you, Smith...", Booth groused good naturedly. "Do you have our identification papers for us, Sergeant Leary?"

"Just a minute...let me take your picture." She took some identification photographs and attached them to their papers, which were written in the local language. "There you are." Standing back to admire her handiwork, Sergeant Leary nodded with satisfaction. "You guys are set to go. Good luck."

"Thanks." Booth stopped to gather his uniform pants and boots before following Rami out of the quartermaster's office. "Hey, I think I'm gonna doubletime it back and change back into my uniform." Seeing Rami's confusion, Booth sighed softly. "I want to go talk to the chaplain before I have lunch…"

"Yeah...okay." Rami shrugged. "I get it. But listen, we need to do a few more things today before we leave in the morning...you know, pack the truck..."

"I know. I won't be gone long." Giving Rami a wave, Booth jogged off toward the barracks.

Rami shook his head sadly as he watched Booth jog away, hoping the chaplain would be able to ease his friend's pain as he dealt with the fact that he'd have to kill at least one man on this mission.

Oooooooooo

Distracted as she thought about her morning in court, Caroline flung open the door of her office later that day and stomped in, clearly in an angry huff. "So that jackass lawyer wants to appeal that conviction for his sweet lil ol' client, does he? Those squints are gonna have to work overtime on this one to help me out...I'm not about to let that slimy little weasel get away with tha…" She gasped in surprise as she turned to face the man sitting quietly in a chair in the corner. "Jus' what the hell you doin' in my office? Who let you in?"

"Hey, I thought you wanted to see me. Alex at the State Department said you've been asking around about someone from The Company, right? Besides, you know who I work for. Nobody has to 'let me in', okay?" Danny Beck offered the prosecutor a big grin as he straightened his tie. "Anyway, I'm just here to help you out, that's all."

"Hmmph. I bet." Caroline tried hard to be angry, but she couldn't stay mad at her handsome visitor. "So you got news for me?"

"Maybe...strictly off the record, you understand…" Danny stood up and walked over to the window as he spoke. "The man you've been asking about has an unhappy history with our mutual friend. Booth did a couple of jobs for him several years ago...stuff I can't really tell you about…but one of them turned out to be a lot more dangerous than advertised, and Booth was lucky to make it out in one piece..."

"Yeah, I know the drill about all the off the record stuff that went on with Booth in the past, but if you can't tell me anything, why are you here? That doesn't do me any good…the couillon in question been pestering Dr. Brennan, and it has to stop, that's all…I don't need to know the man's whole life story..."

"Oh, you do need to know about it, because he's been bothering Dr. Brennan so he'll have leverage against Booth. He probably knows Booth's been crazy about that scientist for a long time, and he's trying to use that knowledge to get something he wants from Booth...something that Booth doesn't want to give him. That's what this guy does...he plays people against each other, hoping to use their mutual dislike, their insecurities, or in this case, their mutual attraction...to his advantage. He likes to use emotional blackmail." Shaking his head as he watched the cars go by on the street below, Danny glanced at Caroline. "The problem is that this guy...Rick or John or whatever the hell he's calling himself today...he just left town in a big hurry, without going through proper channels. He didn't say where he was going, of course...that's always hush hush no matter what the situation is...but I promise you, wherever he is, he's trying to make trouble for Booth. Rumor has it that he wanted Booth to take on a job for him, and Booth turned him down, so we think our guy's gone off the Reservation now...he may be trying to do some work on the side or trying to provide cover for himself, and he wants to get Booth's help with something big. We don't know for sure. Rick is a professional manipulator, and The Company knows he's up to something shady, but we don't have enough evidence to pull the plug on him yet..."

"Good to know, I suppose, but how does that help me? I can't get ahold of Booth right now, what with him being who knows where…", Caroline began in annoyance. "...and even if I could, what would I say? Watch out for sneaky guys? Don't talk to any strangers?"

"That's the rub, right? Knowing what to do?" Danny chuckled at the prosecutor's exasperation. "But I bet Dr. Brennan can email Booth...maybe she can let him know what's going on…tell him to be extra careful."

Caroline eyed her visitor suspiciously. "Maybe, except I hate to worry her like that...it's bad enough to know he's out on a difficult mission, but then to tell her that an operative is after Booth…"

Shrugging, the agent turned to leave. "Yeah...it's a conundrum, but I guess a smart woman like you can figure out what to do…" He winked at her as he walked out of her office. "I'll be in touch."

"Great…thanks for nothing…", Caroline growled as she sank into her desk chair, trying to figure out what to do with the information she'd just been given.

Oooooooooo

Approaching the corporal sitting at a desk in the Chaplain's outer office, Booth cleared his throat nervously. "Excuse me...is the Roman Catholic chaplain available?"

"No, he's not. I'm sorry." She glanced up at Booth before turning back to her computer. "He had to go over to the infirmary, and I'm not sure when he'll be back. Can I help you with something?"

"Um...no, not really." Seeing her slightly exasperated expression, he smiled. "I just wanted to talk to a priest, that's all." He glanced toward the chapel. "Do you think it'd be alright if I sat in the sanctuary for a few minutes?"

"Yes, that's fine…" She handed him a notepad and a pencil. "...and if you leave your name, I'll have Father LaMont look you up when he gets back."

"Yeah...okay...if he has time, I'd appreciate it." Scribbling his contact information down, Booth pushed it back to her and nodded his thanks before stepping into the shadowy worship area. Blessing himself, he walked over to a small candle stand and lit a votive, sending up a prayer for a safe return before finding a pew from which he could contemplate the stark black wooden cross hanging from the ceiling over the altar.

He sat quietly for a few minutes before giving in to the pain in his soul. "How do I know, Lord?", he muttered to himself. "How do I know I'm the good guy in these situations?" His question was answered with silence. Sighing softly he sat there for a minute or two more, staring at the large cross as it hung in mute memorial to Christ's sacrifice. "I just need to know...please...I want to do the right thing here...to be right with God..."

Then suddenly, his thoughts flew back to what the Archbishop had told him as they shared a hasty dinner in the Atlanta airport all those weeks ago. _"The Lord is always with you, son…He's there for you...He's watching out for you, protecting you...trust in Him...He'll forgive you if you ask Him...it's in God's hands...you'll do the right thing..."_

Slightly awestruck, Booth stared at the cross above him, wondering if he'd actually just received an answer to his prayerful question. Maybe he didn't need to know all the details...maybe he just had to do the best he could in a bad situation, and let the Lord take care of the rest. Filled with an intense sense of relief, he quietly recited the Lord's Prayer before standing up and blessing himself again.

He smiled slightly as he left the chapel and strode out into the bright noonday sunlight, making his way back to his barracks. No matter what happened on this mission, he knew now that he'd be ready to handle it.

'


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: Thank you the continuing interest in my story.. I realize we are sort of creeping along with details as Booth gets ready for his mission, but things will pick up speed soon. I'm trying to show all the effort that goes into taking on a job like this, and how it affects those who are participating.**_

* * *

"Angela! Slow down, please...now, tell me again. What did the doctor say?" Trying to make sense of Angela's agitated report, Brennan held her phone up to her ear with her shoulder, searching through her purse for her keys as she got ready to go to the lab. "Is it time for the baby to be born? Do you need me to come to the hospital? I can be there in twenty minutes..."

"No, Sweetie…sorry...false alarm. Unfortunately, there's no rush. I guess I'm just venting because I'm disappointed, that's all. I'm past my due date, and so far, nothing is happening." Angela's frustration was obvious in her tone of voice. Sighing softly, she repeated the news she'd just received from her doctor. "I'd hoped Dr. Bano was going to tell me that I had begun to dilate, you know, since it's about that time, but no such luck. The baby is evidently content where he is, and he doesn't seem to be in any hurry to get here. Anyway, she says that if this kid doesn't make an appearance on his own by Friday, she's gonna give him a jump start, so one way or another, we'll have the baby here by the weekend."

"So they're going to induce labor on Friday? I see. What time to do I need to be at the hospital? How are you feeling? Are you upset? You shouldn't be...it's not your fault. It's merely a body chemistry issue. Many studies I've read recently have shown that it isn't uncommon for the first child to be quite late in arriving, and therefore, it's a common medical procedure for labor to be induced, depending on when the child's gestation period is considered to be over. It's not a failure on anyone's part…your body just hasn't achieved the necessary balance of oxytocin and surfactant protein A that normally triggers the onset of labor. It's also quite possible that the baby will come on its own without induction between now and Friday, seeing how you are past your actual due date by a week or so..."

Laughing at her friend's frantic torrent of medical jargon, Angela was finally able to get a word into the conversation. "Take it easy, Brennan and I'll tell you all about it, okay? If the baby isn't here by 7 AM Friday morning, Hodgins and I will report to the Labor and Delivery floor of Washington General hospital." She smiled as she imagined Brennan's exasperation at having to wait another few days. "And no, I suppose I'm not really all that upset...well, maybe I'm a little upset...but you're right...Dr. Bano says that it's not unusual for this sort of thing to happen during a first pregnancy. Anyway, at this point, I'm just ready for the baby to be born, and if that means we have to induce labor, that's fine with me. It's nice to actually have an end in sight, you know? I am so over being pregnant. Believe me, I'm tired of feeling like a overstuffed water buffalo."

"Would you like me to be at the hospital at seven as well?" Brennan shifted her phone to her hand as she pulled her keys out of her bag. "I don't mind, really, if you want me there for moral support…"

"No, that's not really necessary. The doctor said it could take several hours for labor to begin even after they start the oxytocin drip. Why don't you plan on coming about nine or so? That way you can give Hodgins a break if he needs one. I'm afraid he's going to be a little stressed with having to wait for the whole giving birth thing to begin. The doctor said it's not like we start the drip and then, bang, the baby pops out a few minutes later. There'll be lots of waiting around until this kid gets a move on. But if I go into labor sooner than that, I'll have Hodgins call you, okay? Hey, you're really excited about this, aren't you?" Angela couldn't hide her surprise from her best friend, who chuckled softly as she agreed. "You're anxious to be there, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am." Brennan laughed as she leaned against her kitchen counter. "I believe it's only natural for me to have a personal interest in this situation, Angela. While thousands of children are born everyday, so that it might appear to be a mundane event to the uninformed person outside of a family, the fact that this child is being born to my best friend...to someone I consider to be as a sister to me...that fact seems to have caused my body to produce a rush of adrenaline as well as the spurring on of my maternal instincts. I find that I'm looking forward to acting as an aunt for your child. You know, anthropologically speaking, being an aunt is an important role in the family. It's quite common in many societies for all women in the community to act as aunts for the newborn, working together to assist the mother in raising her offspring, thus ensuring the success of the child as it moves through the various developmental stages. It would appear that the old adage ' _It takes a village to raise a child_ ' is correct." Brennan giggled as she imagined Angela rolling her eyes over that discourse. "Yes, I would say I'm very excited…I want to be part of your child rearing village, if that's okay with you."

"Of course, that's okay. I'd love that, too." Surprised to hear Brennan's laughter as she discussed the impending birth, Angela's relationship radar was suddenly on alert again. _Brennan is giggling and excited about a baby being born? That is so weird..._ "Sweetie, are you alright? You're not...you're not pregnant, are you? I mean, you and Booth...before he left…you were together… a lot, it seems...and you said he had that special super stuff..."

Exasperated at Angela's suggestion, Brennan sighed audibly. "No, of course not, Angela. I'm just excited for your child to arrive. In any case, you know I dated both Andrew Hacker and Rick Carothers while Booth was in a relationship with Hannah, so I've been on birth control for approximately seven months or so…."

"Ewww...I don't even want to think about you being with either one of those losers." Angela's disgust was obvious. "Neither one of those guys is pill worthy…"

Brennan puffed out another aggravated sigh. "Yes, I soon realized that about both of them, but I didn't want to stop taking birth control in case I found someone else with whom I wanted to enter a serious sexual relationship." Giggling slightly, she couldn't help but smile. "Actually, I did find that someone, Angela, and his name is Booth. As it turns out, it was quite providential that I continued to use birth control, and so, even though we engaged in coitus quite often before he left on his trip, there's very little cause for concern. I know for sure that I'm not pregnant. I'm just happy for you…"

"Hmmm…." Uncertain if her friend was giving her the whole story, Angela decided to let the matter drop for the moment. "Okay, if you say so, Bren...so we'll see you Friday morning unless Hodgins calls you to tell you differently, alright?"

"Excellent. I'm looking forward to it, Angela."

"Yeah, me, too. I can't wait for my baby to meet his Auntie Temperance. See you soon. Bye, Sweetie…" Angela paused a few seconds before putting her phone back in her pocket. _Something very strange is going on with Brennan..._

Brennan ended the call and dropped her phone into her purse, trying to understand her own excitement over the birth of Angela's child. She knew without a doubt that she wasn't pregnant at the present time, but perhaps, one day, when Booth returned from his mission, she thought they might consider having a child together. She sighed sadly as she thought again about the danger Booth was facing on his mission. She acknowledged to herself that it would more logical to think in terms of _if_ Booth returned from his mission instead of _when_ , but this was one of the few times in her life when she found it difficult to fully embrace the logic of a situation. It was inconceivable...the thought that Booth might not return from his trip seemed beyond the realm of possibility, and yet, in the back of her mind, the frightening thoughts of losing him still nagged at her. _How could I go back to any semblance of a normal life if Booth doesn't return? How could I possibly adapt to losing him again?_

Shaking off her negative thoughts, Brennan set her jaw resolutely as she picked up her messenger bag. She knew what Booth would tell her...that she needed to stay positive. _He'd tell me not to even put that out there…_ It would be hard for her logical mind to embrace such a nebulous attitude, but if it helped her to ignore those frightening thoughts, she was willing to try it. She sighed as she locked her apartment door and walked down the steps toward her car. It was at times like this she wished she could believe in the comfort of prayer…

Oooooooooo

Caroline hesitated slightly as she made her way to Dr. Brennan's office. She didn't want to cause the scientist any more worry about Booth, but, still…

Knowing she wouldn't be able to rest until she took care of this matter, the attorney coughed softly as she stood in the doorway. "Excuse me, Dr. Brennan…"

"Oh, Ms. Julian...I'm sorry I didn't notice you sooner." Brennan's surprise was obvious as she looked up from her monitor. "I assumed you'd wait until a few days after the appeal was filed to come by the lab. I'm afraid we don't have any new information for you on that appeal. Hodgins is running new samples looking for more particulates to tie the accused to the murder scene, but the bones haven't offered any new facts so far…"

"I understand." Trying to smile, Caroline came in and sat in front of Brennan's desk. "I know y'all are doin' the best you can on that stuff. I don't want y'all to rush things, okay? Appeals take time, Cher', and I wanna get this one right, so y'all just do the best you can, and take all the time you need so we can nail that slimy weasel." Fidgeting with her briefcase handle, Caroline exhaled softly. "I just came by to tell you that you won't have to worry about that Rick fella bothering you any more. I guess he left town a couple of days ago."

Brennan's brow furrowed as she thought over the information. "Really? How do you know that?"

Caroline shrugged slightly. "Let's just say I got my sources, okay? Anyway, he's gone, so you can rest easy."

"That's a relief. Thank you for looking into the matter for me." Brennan sat back in her chair and smiled. "I appreciate your time."

"No problem. Glad I could help." Picking at her thumbnail, Caroline tilted her head to one side. "Have y'all heard from Booth recently? I mean, I know he's on an overseas trip, but..."

"It's been a week or so since I've heard from him...he sent me a short email to say that he'd completed the first part of his training exercise and he was moving to the next part." Brennan studied the woman before her, wondering why Caroline was suddenly so concerned about Booth. "I'm sure he's doing well. I'll probably hear from him soon."

"Well, when you do hear from him, you let him know that I expect him to be extra careful...to make sure he takes care of himself, you hear? I don't wanna take a chance on him not being able to come back to work to solve some more cases for me." Caroline shook her head solemnly. "He's too old to be out galavanting all over the world like this, playing some war game. He needs to come back home to stay."

"I completely concur with your assessment." Brennan smiled at the prosecutor, knowing that Caroline didn't realize that Booth was involved in something very real. _It's not war games...it's life or death..._ "I find I'm most anxious to have him back home safely."

"Yeah...good." Caroline checked her watch, trying to decide what to do. _I need to tell her what's going on…but I don't know how much I'm at liberty to say...Danny didn't say I couldn't tell...but does she need to know it's Rick that might cause problems for Booth? Does she need to worry about that, too?_ "Listen, instead of waiting to hear from Booth, can you send him an email for me? Tell him to be careful who he trusts...my sources say there may be things working against him on this project…" Seeing Brennan's anxious expression, Caroline shrugged. "I know your worried...and no matter what, he'll be careful, right? I'd just feel better if you didn't wait until you hear from him..."

"Yes, of course, but if it makes you feel better, I'll send him the message immediately...or I suppose you can email him if you want…" Brennan was confused. "I must be missing something here, Ms. Julian…is there a problem with Booth I need to know about?"

 _I don't know anything definite, do I? Nothing for certain…_ Caroline quickly debated with herself and then decided against spreading hearsay. "Never mind, Cher'...it's just an old woman's ramblings. You just tell him I'm thinking of him. That'll be good enough." Rising from her chair, Caroline smiled. "Let me know about those findings for the appeal, okay? Bye, now."

"As soon as we have anything new, I'll send you the information. Goodbye." Brennan watched as Caroline left her office, contemplating what had just happened before turning back to her work. _At least I don't have to worry about Rick anymore...I suppose Caroline was just worried about Booth because she cares about him...but I'll send him an email for her, just to be safe…_

Oooooooooo

Booth sullenly gazed out the passenger window of the dilapidated truck as it went chugging along what was supposed to be an improved two lane road. The route to Doshi wound through several passes within the Hindu Kush mountains, with the road narrowing painfully in some places as it squeezed between the sheer mountain face on one side and the steep drop down to valley below on the other, making their progress painfully slow as they seemingly inched along the highway. Shifting in his seat, Booth tried to be patient with Rami's cautious driving, but that was proving to be a difficult challenge. He fought back the urge to groan in frustration as they crept over the mountains, fairly sure they'd be traveling faster if they'd gone on the back of a donkey. However, no matter how frustrated he felt, Booth realized that Rami had to be the one to drive in case they were stopped by someone along the way, and that the man was probably being overly cautious to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Booth's partner was the one who would be able to converse with the locals instead of Booth, so Smith had to be in charge of this part of the operation. There was nothing for Booth to do but sit back, relax, and try to enjoy the stark mountain scenery.

But, as Booth soon realized, relaxing was nearly impossible. His mind kept wandering back to his mission...to what they were expected to do...to the Dragunov rifle jammed behind the seat of the truck...to how he was expected to blend in with the people in the town...to wondering where his target was...to how they'd be able to get away when the job was done…

"You alright there, Booth?" Sergeant Smith gave a quick sideways glance at his passenger before checking his mirrors. "You seem awful quiet this morning…"

"You mean am I alright with the fact that you drive like my Grandma?" Shaking off his crushing thoughts, Booth tried to smile. "Yeah, I'm fine, I guess. Just trying to go over how the plan is gonna go down…" He ran his hand over his sparse whiskers as he stared out the truck's front windshield. "So we're gonna get to Doshi early this afternoon, right? Maybe try to find a place to stay?"

"Hopefully, if everything goes okay, we'll be there about 1 o'clock or so. I know it's taking longer than the Major said it would, but this truck seems to be held together with chewing gum and baling wire, and the transmission's wonky...the clutch seems like it's slipping. They must've found this hunk of junk in the bottom of a ravine somewhere. Anyway, if we're lucky, we should make it there before too long. Hey, hand me one of those sandwiches, okay?" Rami nodded to a cardboard box on the truck's floorboard next to Booth's feet. "Thanks." Unwrapping his meal, he continued as he took a big bite out of the thick stack of bread and meat. "You should probably eat now, too, Booth. Meals can be hit and miss around here, you know? I mean, someone will feed us something tonight, since we're company, but there's no telling what we'll have for supper...could be mystery meat on a stick, right? Anyway, we'll get to the garage and talk to Achmed, and then probably go to his house for the evening…"

"Really? His house?" Booth shook his head as he ate his sandwich. "Isn't that kind of risky? I mean, we'll be seen with him, and then his neighbors will be curious about his visitors..."

"Nah...the house is right behind his garage, so we can walk over there without being noticed by too many people, and there'll be a lot of trucks at the garage that look just like ours. Anyway, the hospitality customs of the area would make it seem normal for random visitors to stay for a light meal. Even strangers are fed in a man's house if it seems like they might be hungry. Besides, it'd actually be a lot safer staying with Achmed than trying to find an inn somewhere. People notice that kind of shit...if you're new, or in a small town and can't find someone to stay with, people gossip about it, and we don't want that, do we, Sarge?." Rami grinned slightly as he took a sip from his water bottle. "And if there are a lot of other people standing around when we arrive, I'm gonna tell them you can't talk...that you're a fucking imbecile…"

"Yeah, thanks, Smith. Jackass..." Booth closed his eyes and sighed as he leaned back into the truck's dirt stained seat. "I think that's true...I must've been an imbecile to take on this job...I can't believe I left Bones to do this..."

"Aw, c'mon, Sarge." Rami chuckled softly as he tried to lighten the mood. "I bet it won't be but a day or two until the job's done and we're back on the road to Bagram and then on our way home."

"I hope so…" Booth took a big drink of water as he studied the mountain peaks in the distance. "I'm not gonna be able to rest easy until we're done with this project. I'm still kinda uncomfortable with the whole undercover part of this operation...you know, with me trying to blend in with the local scenery. I kinda feel like everybody who looks at me will know I don't belong here. I might as well be wearing an American flag as a patu..."

"I know how you feel, Booth." Rami nodded in agreement as he checked his rearview mirror again. "I've been in situations like that, too...where you're supposed to blend in with the crowd, but you feel like everyone's pointing and staring as you go by. The sad part was that I was back in the States when it happened to me...right after 9/11. It seemed everywhere I went, people were whispering about me behind my back, probably wondering if I was a terrorist or something. Of course, I guess that coulda been just paranoia on my part." Shrugging as he tried to pass a slower moving vehicle, he continued quietly. "I guess it's not as bad for me being undercover this time around, because I've been this way before, so it seems really familiar...kind of like going home in a way. I remember we often drove this way to see my grandfather when I was a boy. We're almost there...maybe 45 minutes more. And you'll be safe with me...just be quiet and let me do the talking, okay? Nobody will notice a thing, and even if they do, Achmed will come up with an excuse of some sort for us. It'll be fine. You'll see..."

Booth knew that Rami was trying to make him feel better, but it wasn't working very well. "Okay, if you say so, buddy." Wadding up the sandwich wrapper, he tossed it aside as he tried to get comfortable in the lumpy truck seat. "I'm gonna try to get a nap in before we get to Doshi."

"I'll wake you when we get there." Draining his water bottle, Rami laughed. "I just hope you don't snore as loud here in the truck as you did in our room last night…you might just shake this old truck apart if you do..."

"Whatever." Booth laughed in spite of himself. "I'll see what I can do to keep from distracting you while you drive…"

"Thanks, Sarge." Sighing to himself, Rami grimaced as he stared out the truck's front window, trying to convince himself that things would be as easy in Doshi as he'd said they'd be...

Oooooooooo

It was a little over half an hour later when the truck passed through the city gate and rattled to a stop in front of a rickety metal building on the edge of the town. Turning to his partner as he jumped down out of the truck, Rami went over the instructions again. "Okay, Booth...here we are. Remember...not a word…don't respond...don't make eye contact with anyone..."

"Yeah, okay, dammit. I ain't really an imbecile, you know?", Booth whispered furiously. He pulled his hat down to cover more of his face and wrapped his patu blanket closely around his chin and neck before cautiously following Rami up to the garage's large overhead door.

Waving to a boy of about thirteen years, Rami began speaking the local language in an agitated tone, pointing at the truck's wheels as he did. The boy nodded and quickly ran off to the back of the building. Soon a group of three men came around to the front of the building to greet the visitors.

One of the men listened carefully as Rami explained the problem with the truck again. Booth made it a point to stare at the ground, watching the conversation in his peripheral vision. One of the other men pointed at him, obviously asking Rami about him. Turning slightly away, Booth stared off in the distance as Rami nodded toward him and said something that made other three men laugh. _Imbecile, my ass...you just wait, Smith…there's gonna be hell to pay when we get back to civilization..._ Then Rami said something to the man who seemed to be in charge of the place. The middle aged man slowly ambled over and inspected the truck closely, scratching his salt and pepper beard as he considered what had been said. Finally the man shrugged and shook his head before saying something with a laugh. _That must've been the code question and answer…that must be Achmed...yeah, I can see the family resemblance..._

"Ibrahim…" Rami put his hand on Booth's shoulder and nodded toward the house before saying something to him in Pashto. " _Come, my brother...we will have some food._ " Concentrating on keeping his face expressionless, Booth nodded silently as he followed Rami and the apparent garage owner to a large mud brick compound behind the garage.

The men removed their shoes before entering the main house, and Achmed ushered them into a large open room with windows overlooking the pleasant enclosed courtyard. Bowing toward his guests, the older man spoke softly in English. "Please make yourselves at home, gentlemen. I will bring tea."

Sitting cross legged on one of the numerous floor cushions, Rami beckoned for Booth to join him. "It's okay...you can relax...take the patu off if you want. You're among friends here."

"Okay." Exhaling slowly, Booth shed his outer blanket and sat next to Rami, making sure the soles of his feet were hidden so as to avoid offending their host. Curious about the conversation he'd witnessed at the garage, Booth eyed his friend suspiciously. "So just what did you tell your buddies about me, Rami?"

Rami pulled an innocent look as he shrugged a shoulder. "Not much. Just that you were my wife's idiot brother and that it was my week to babysit you…that you were so stupid you couldn't even talk..." Chuckling at Booth's surly glare, Rami smiled. "Aw, c'mon, Booth...it's not like those guys are ever gonna see you again. Besides, that's part of your cover, right? No one would suspect an actual idiot might be the guy that took out our target…" Rami's teasing was interrupted as his cousin entered the room.

"Here is the tea and some fruit and bread." Achmed set a tray with the food, three cups and a carafe on a low wooden table next to the cushions. "Have you eaten today, Cousin?"

"Yes, we both had something to eat a few hours ago, but I'm hungry again, as usual. Thank you, Achmed. The food looks good. I'm sure you remember that _Jiddo_ always teased me as a child, laughing about how much I ate." Taking a cup of tea, some dates, and a slice of melon, Rami smiled deferentially at his older cousin as he gestured toward Booth. "This is my friend, Sergeant Major Seeley Booth, but I suppose you knew that…"

" _Tsenga yee?"_ Booth shook Achmed's outstretched hand gently before offering his host a small package of foil wrapped chocolates. "You have a beautiful home."

"Many thanks. And I am fine, thank you. I appreciate your effort to speak our language. As you have noticed, I do speak some English, but it is not something I let everyone in the town know about. It is much safer to keep that fact to myself. I learned the language many years ago, when I was a much younger man, but I do not get to practice much any more. I hope you can understand me. I think I am what you would call 'rusty'." Achmed sipped his tea thoughtfully before picking up a piece of bread and some dried figs. "I also hope you had a pleasant journey. I imagine, Cousin, that the trip has brought back many happy childhood memories for you."

Rami chuckled as he looked around the room. "Yes, Achmed, it has. It was nice to see the hills and valleys surrounding our family's hometown again. I have told Booth many stories of my childhood visits…of our grandfather. Do you remember when my brothers and I used to play hide and seek in the trees around his house?"

Sipping his hot, heavily sweetened tea as Rami and Achmed, speaking Pashto, caught up on family news, Booth tried again to be patient, knowing from his previous deployments to this part of the world that any sort of meeting in Afghanistan wouldn't start until the pleasantries and the latest gossip were thoroughly covered. He bit his lip to keep from saying something rude as the two men chatted for twenty minutes or so. Stifling a yawn, he tried not to nod off as his mind began to wander. _Didn't sleep well last night...so sleepy...I wonder what Bones is doing right now...wonder if Angela has had her baby yet? That'll be good for Bones...helping Angela will give her something to do besides worry about me..._

Finally the men turned and smiled at a drowsy Booth. "I hope you will forgive us for not using English as we spoke to each other about our family news.", Achmed said as he took another sip of his tea. "I am not as fluent in your language as my cousin is in Pashto." Pouring more tea for Booth and Rami, he continued in a quiet voice. "Let us now talk about why you are really here…" He produced a folded piece of paper and a pencil from his vest pocket. "Here is a map of our grandfather's estate, Akram. I have been up there a few times recently, trying to fix the trucks of the group using the building, so I did some looking around to see how things are laid out now that someone else lives there."

Rami shuddered slightly, shaking his head at his cousin. "That was a dangerous thing to do, Achmed…you might have been discovered..."

"Oh, I do not think so. After all, I am just a lowly truck mechanic. Besides, they think I am a simpleminded old man, and they pay no attention to me. They do not seem to know who I am...that I was related to the men they murdered when they seized the house." Achmed pointed to a spot on the map. "The man you are looking for sleeps here…" Pointing to a space on the north side of the house, Achmed marked the room with an X. "There is an area with a table and chairs in the outdoor courtyard directly off of his room. He usually eats his morning meal there, normally between 8 and 9 in the morning, and then he reads for a period of time. And here…" Achmed marked another spot on the map. "...this is a ridge that overlooks the house. It is rocky and pitched at an upward angle, and so it will provide you some cover as you pick out the location from which to take the shot. It overlooks the man's private courtyard, and you should have a clear view of him from there, but because of the angle of the ridge, the people in the house will not be able to see you. It is a steep hill, so you will not be able to drive up there. You should leave your truck down here...there is a small grove of trees...and then you can climb up to here. It is a short distance to the top...a few hundred meters or so."

Studying the map, Booth pursed his lips slightly as he listened to Achmed's suggestions. "If this map is to scale, that's gonna be a pretty long shot from there...a thousand yards or so...but I should be able to handle it pretty well with that Dragunov. What about guards? Anybody gonna check on us up on that ridge?" He pointed to a fine line drawn on the map. "If this is a road of some sort we might be able to use it to drive up there to the base of the ridge. How far away is the house from town?"

"The small village where my grandfather lived is about 20 kilometers from here." Achmed indicated another marking on the map. "This road is not paved, but it is well traveled and the path is well worn and should be easy to find. I am sure Akram will remember where the house is located when he starts in that direction. I did not see any men standing guard when I was up there, but I suggest you check it out tomorrow to be sure, and then wait until the next day to actually begin your mission." Achmed folded his hands in his lap and smiled at the two men opposite of him. "I know you are anxious to get home, but you are welcome to stay in my house for as long as you need to do so. I want to make sure you are successful in achieving your goal." He glanced at Booth. "Your success is a matter of honor for our family, Sergeant Major, as I am sure Akram has explained to you, and I will assist you in any way I can." With that, Achmed stood up and stretched a bit, groaning as he rubbed his back. "I am going to go look at the truck you drove here today since you told my visitors and I that the brakes are bad. We do not want to arouse suspicions from the neighbors. We will eat our evening meal in a few hours. Until then, please relax and make yourself comfortable in my home."

"Thank you...and thanks again for the excellent tea." Booth smiled at Achmed as the older man bowed before leaving them. His expression soon changed to one of concern as he turned to Rami. "Jesus, that could be a problem. Did you bring your sidearm with you, Rami?"

"Yeah, of course...why?" Somewhat alarmed at Booth's agitation, Rami was nervous, wondering what was bothering his partner. "We have the rifle, too, right? What's wrong?"

"If we run into anybody up there on that ridge...you know, someone who might keep us from completing our mission, I don't want to use the rifle to take them out. We're gonna be real close to the house, and the noise would draw too much attention to us. You've got everything you need to defend yourself…" Rami nodded in agreement as he patted the pistol in his waistband. Booth was grim as he continued with quiet intensity. "Good. So do I, and I have my knife, too. I don't want to become any more involved than necessary, but you know as well as I do that the success of our mission is paramount…and that there may be collateral damage…"

"Yeah, I know. Okay…we try to do as little damage as possible, but the target is the most important objective...we take him out at all costs." Rami glanced at Booth as he finished his tea. "You want to finish this mission tomorrow, right?"

"If we can get it over with tomorrow, then yeah, that's what we'll do." Booth lay back on the cushions, trying to get comfortable as he stretched out his tall frame, but his back was still sore from being crammed into the truck's narrow seat. "Look, I know this is your family's house, and you feel at home, but it still seems to me that I just stick out like a sore thumb, you know? Like I have a neon sign around my neck that says I'm an American here to take out one of their own, so the sooner we're outta here, the better I'm gonna like it. So that's the plan, okay? Take out the target tomorrow if we can, and then back to Bagram on the double...maybe a little faster than we got here this afternoon…" Booth pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his matted hair as he thought about Achmed's information. The man seemed calm and mild mannered, but Booth wasn't fooled by his pleasant demeanor. It was obvious that the man was a fierce warrior and a determined defender of his family's honor. "I can't believe your cousin was out walking around the grounds of the house while it's being held by someone else, scouting the place for us like it's no big deal…that's just crazy..."

"Achmed's not easily frightened by things like that, Booth." Rami laughed out loud at Booth's irritation. "He was in the mujahadeen...he was a freedom fighter when the Soviet Army was here...you know, a guerrilla warfare guy. He wasn't even 15 when he joined them. He's been shot a couple of times, but I guess he gave as good as he got. It wouldn't bother him one bit to go walk around up there at my grandfather's place, armed with just his knife, ready for action if need be. He was also probably sabotaging their trucks instead of fixing them, and I wouldn't be surprised it he didn't take out some of the guys working for our target just for the hell of it...like maybe the guards he told you not to worry about. To him it's the same sort of thing as picking off the Russian soldiers like he did all those years ago. He wants to free our people of men like Ghilzai, and he's willing to do what it takes to make that happen."

"I get that, Rami, but he could've blown the whole mission for us. I mean, what if the bad guys had figured out what he was doing…that he was on a reconnaissance mission instead of just going for a stroll around the grounds? That would have ruined everything, and we'd be walking into a deathtrap." Staring at the ceiling, Booth shook his head. "He was brave, but he was also really, really lucky." Rolling over on his side, Booth fixed an intense gaze on his partner. "I just want to get this over with, okay? No more surprises, alright?"

"Yeah, I understand. Alright, Booth. We'll plan on finishing the job tomorrow. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna take a siesta before dinner. Your snoring kept me up all last night, and I'm beat…"

"Oh, poor baby. Come on...you know all real special ops guys snore that loud, right?" Booth grinned at his buddy and snickered as Rami scowled at him. "Sleep tight, little boy…get your beauty sleep."

Rami lay back against the cushions and soon drifted off to sleep, leaving a restless Booth to stare at the ceiling. He felt awkward and alone in the strange house in a foreign country, and he desperately hoped that no one would show up at the door expecting him to speak to them. The house was quiet except for the distant noise from garage, and he was left to his own thoughts as he considered where he was and what he was planning to do in the next few days.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled slowly as he sought to quell the slight feeling of panic rising in his throat. He tried to ignore the feeling of dread seeping into his soul. "I'm Special Ops!", he muttered to himself. "I'm a highly trained operative. I can do this easily...just like always, right? Just point and shoot, right? Easy as pie..." But he couldn't seem to shake the question that kept running through his mind.

 _Goddammit...what the hell am I doing here?_

* * *

 ** _Thanks for reading. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it._**


	14. Chapter 14

**_A/N: thank you for reading my story. I appreciate the reviews...they are very encouraging to me as I continue to write._**

 ** _Please note...there is violence and bloodshed in this chapter. Laura_**

* * *

Booth groaned softly as he shifted his position as he lay in a pile of large pillows and blankets on the cold stone floor. His eyes slowly fluttering open, he took a quick look around the dark room, trying to get his bearings. He glanced toward the opposite wall as he heard Rami talking in his sleep, mumbling something in Pashto as he restlessly turned over and nestled down in his pallet in the corner.

Booth lay quietly for a few more minutes in the silence, wondering what time it was. Their plan was to try to leave before daybreak so they could creep up the side of the ridge before the sun came up that morning, but it was impossible at the moment to determine how many hours there were before dawn would actually arrive. Stretching tentatively, he rolled to his side, trying to ignore the constant dull ache in his lower back and the throbbing pain in both of his feet. He knew he was getting too old for this shit...too old to be running around all over the world playing soldier, and the way his body was complaining bitterly about the amount of abuse it had taken recently had only served to underscore that thought. These missions to some godforsaken place were better off being left for younger men to tackle. The old guys like him needed to stay home and direct traffic from a cozy office somewhere back in the civilized world.

Shaking off his depressing thoughts, Booth rolled over and closed his eyes again, hoping to catch up on his rest, but his mind kept wandering back to the previous evening.

Oooooooooo

 _Achmed's two wives, whom the visitors would never meet, in accordance with the strict Muslim customs of the area, had prepared several dishes fit for a meal to be served to honored guests. Embarrassed at being treated like someone special, Booth ate as much as he could handle, knowing that his digestive system might rebel against the meal the next day, but not wanting to give offense to his host. The goat shish kebob had been excellent. The tender meat was laid on a bed of saffron rice and surrounded with some sort of boiled vegetables, and several varieties of fresh fruit were arranged in beautifully painted gilt bowls._

 _The visitors, along with Achmed and some of his older sons, sat at a low table and ate their fill of the feast as the cousins reminisced about old times, laughing over some of their youthful misadventures together. Even though Achmed was several years older than Rami, their extended families had spent many holidays and summer vacations together. Achmed had delighted his dinner companions with humorous stories about Rami and his younger brothers as they'd visited the country with their mother all those years ago._

 _Booth had tried to follow the conversation as Achmed and Rami went back and forth from English to Pashto, but he soon gave up and had found himself thinking of other things. Glancing at the date on his watch, he realized he'd lost all sense of how much time had passed since he'd left the States. He wasn't sure what day of the week it was, or even exactly how many weeks he'd been away from home. All he knew was that it had been too long since he'd seen Bones and Parker._

 _He was exhausted, trying valiantly to stay awake as the conversations stretched into the night, but he'd drifted off to sleep as he sat by the window in the dining room, only to be roused by Rami so they could move to the adjoining room, where they would stay the night..._

oooooooooo

After a few more minutes of tossing and turning, Booth heard a quiet knock on the doorway. Turning over, Booth saw Achmed standing there, holding up a small battery operated lantern up so it would cast some light into the room. "What time is it?", Booth whispered softly.

"Two hours before sunrise." Achmed held the lantern higher so its light shone on Rami. "You should prepare to leave soon. I think it would be best if you were gone before the traffic in the town picks up." He reached down to jostle his cousin's shoulder. "Come, you must rise now, Akram."

"I agree, Achmed. We need to get a move on." Booth sat up and reached for his long linen overshirt, pulling it on over his head. "Listen, I appreciate you giving us that great meal and a place to stay last night. I know it was really risky for you and your family to have us here, especially if nosy neighbors start gossiping about your odd visitors."

"My neighbors and I often offer hospitality to others who are traveling through the area, especially those who are in need of extensive car repairs, so I am not concerned about that sort of thing. But even if there was a risk to my family, it would make no difference to me. This mission is a matter of our family's honor, Sergeant Major Booth, and we are indebted to you for your service as you complete this project." Speaking quietly, Achmed sat down on the floor next to Booth. "I know what you personally have given up to come to Afghanistan on the mission to eliminate this criminal. Akram has explained to me about the woman you love and your son...about how you have left them behind in America to come here so you could avenge the wrongs committed by this evil man." Sighing softly, Achmed stared at the floor in front of them. "He also told me about the man you lost...the young interpreter who served your unit. I was a soldier once myself, Booth...a commanding officer in a position very similar to yours, and I understand how it feels to lose one who is under your protection. I hope you realize it was not your fault that someone else did evil to the young man. Evil exists in the world, and we must resist it, but I know in my heart that you did not cause this evil to occur. I know you are a good man." Glancing up at Booth, Achmed smiled gently. "If you will allow me, I will pray that Allah will give you safe travel and also peace in your heart…"

"Thanks, Achmed...I'd appreciate that." Hearing Rami grumble softly as he tried to shake off his slumber, Booth laughed quietly. "Okay, Little Miss Sunshine, up and at'em. We've got things to do today…"

"Yeah, I'm up." The younger man scrubbed his hand over his face and offered a sleepy smile as he turned to face Booth. "Ugh...I think I know how you must feel every morning, Sarge. I'm not used to sleeping on the floor anymore…I'm all stiffened up like some old guy..."

"Thanks for nothing, Smith. You're gonna think 'old guy' when I come over there and kick your ass outta bed…" Turning to Achmed, Booth rolled his eyes. "Kids these days…"

Achmed chuckled as he scrambled up from the floor. "I will go to find some breakfast for you, and maybe something for lunch in case you need it. I think you must leave soon…" He turned and left them alone to finish getting dressed.

"So do you know for sure where we're going this morning, Rami?" Booth stretched and scratched his belly as he yawned. "I don't want you to get us lost somewhere in the middle of the Afghan wilderness on the way to take out our target…"

"I'll admit it's been awhile, and we'll be traveling in the dark, but I've been that way many times as a boy, so I think we'll be okay." Pulling on his pants, Rami groaned as he reached for the rest of his clothes. "Come on, let's go...hey, Booth, pull your patu up around your face, okay? Just in case we run into someone on the way out of town…"

"Yeah, okay." Booth pulled his woollen cap down low on his forehead and wrapped his blanket around his neck and chin. "Look, Rami...I know what your cousin said, about us staying at his place as long as we needed, but if we're not successful today, I'm not sure we should come back here tonight. I don't want to draw any more attention to Achmed's house than necessary…"

"Yeah, you're probably right." Rami finished dressing and folded up the heavy blankets, stacking them on the floor pillows and pushing the bedding into a corner. "Besides, I guess it's also possible that someone might recognize me and make the connection to Achmed, and that would bring up all sorts of questions we don't want to answer right now. If we don't get the guy today, we may have to sleep in the truck tonight, unless Major Evans gave you some cash…"

"No...I got nothing like that. I guess that means we'd better do our best to get Ghilzai today. I'm not sure I want to spend another night sleeping in the same room with you anyway, Rami…" Booth tried to force a grin to break the tension they both felt as they thought about undertaking their mission. "You snore like a hibernating grizzly bear…"

"Yeah, between my snoring and your issues with passing gas, we probably kept Achmed's family up all night. They're probably praying we don't show up back here tonight." The younger man tried to smile as he pulled his patu around his shoulders. "Okay, Booth. Let's go get that bastard…"

Oooooooooo

Wrapped up against the early morning's frigid temperatures, the three men quietly left the tidy house and walked quickly through the blackness toward the garage that stood in the front of the lot. "I have packed some food and water for your journey, and the gas tank of the truck is full.", Achmed said as he held up a cloth bundle. "Also, Akram...I have a gift for you." After removing some strips of fabric, the older cousin drew out a large khukuri knife from its heavily tooled leather scabbard. "This fine steel blade belonged to our grandfather, coming from his father before him. I send it with you now as you attempt to avenge his death. I am sure you know what to do with it." Pulling Rami close, Achmed kissed him gently on both cheeks. "I fear we will never see each other again, Akram. I pray you and Sergeant Major Booth will have a safe journey. Allah be with you, Cousin, as you go to do this task. Goodbye." Waving at Booth, Achmed quickly jogged back to the house.

Wiping a tear from his face, Rami chewed on his lip as he struggled with his composure. Fastening the scabbard into his waistband, he nodded resolutely. "Let's go, Booth." Climbing into the idling truck, they pulled away from the garage and onto the darkened streets of the sleeping town.

"The road we want is about five miles from here, off to the right…", Rami explained as they drove along. There were no streetlights to show them the way as they traveled through the inky darkness, with the truck's headlights offering very little assistance as they made their way down the narrow pavement. "It's not even an improved road, really...more like a gravel covered goat trail. It's not marked by a sign…" The truck slowly bumped along as they looked for the side road. "There it is…" Sharply turning the truck off the main thoroughfare, they hit a dip in the ground before moving up to a level area of dusty gravel. "So this trail will take us to the base of that ridge that Achmed told us about…" Booth nodded as he stared out into the bitterly cold early morning. Rami took a deep breath as he continued. "It's about 3 miles down this way, but since we gotta creep along in the dark, it'll take a while to get where we're goin'…"

Slender rays of pale sunlight were beginning to show across the tops of the mountains in the distance. Finally finding themselves at the base of a steep rocky wall sloping up and away from them, Rami pointed to a thicket of windblown foliage, standing as a large shadow against the horizon. "That's where we'll park…" He found a spot between some tall scraggly bushes where their vehicle would be somewhat hidden from view. "Ready? Here..." Rami held out a headband with a small battery operated LED light attached to it. "These are better than flashlights…they're fairly bright and you can still use your hands..."

"Yeah." Booth pulled off his heavy woolen cap and exchanged it for an olive green baseball cap, which he turned backwards before putting on the headlamp. Reaching behind the seat, Booth pulled out the Dragunov and the rest of the equipment that he'd use to steady the rifle as he got ready to take the shot. Patting the waistband of his billowing pants, he made sure his pistol and combat knife were easily accessible. "Alright...let's go…as quiet as possible. No need to stir up any more trouble than necessary..."

They scrambled up the hill as quickly and silently as they could in the dark. Every step seemed to echo loudly across the rocky terrain as they tried to move along without making enough noise to call attention to themselves. It was a few minutes before sunrise when they finally made it to the top of the ridge. Booth carefully surveyed the scene below as he tried to decide the best vantage point from which to take his shot.

The large group of concrete block buildings below them was mostly dark, but a few spots of light could be seen through the windows of what were probably the living quarters, moving from place to place as if someone was carrying a lantern through the house. People and animals were starting to stir outside as well. The place was quiet except for the rooster crowing from somewhere on the grounds. Soon everyone would be going about their daily routine of cooking meals and completing the morning chores. It had started out to be just another day, but Booth knew that if he had anything to do with it, it wouldn't end that way.

"Which room is he using, Rami?" Booth set up his tripod and inspected his rifle before affixing the silencer. "I need to be where I'm sure I can get a clean shot the first time. I don't want to have to try twice."

"Achmed said it was the second room from the right on this side of the house. See that enclosed courtyard? It's got a table and some chairs set up, and he said that Ghilzai usually has his breakfast out there…"

"Even when it's this cold?" Booth shivered as he pulled his heavy wool blanket away to free his arms. "Geez….it must be well below freezing this morning."

Chuckling, Rami smiled as he shrugged off his patu. "Most folks in Afghanistan consider this to be warm weather, Booth, especially with all the layers of clothing they normally wear." He beat his arms across his chest and shivered, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I gotta go take a leak…"

"Didn't I tell ya to take care of that before we left? Hurry up, okay? I'm gonna need you to check the scope for me…" Booth chuckled to himself as his partner scurried away to take care of business. Picking out a likely spot from which to shoot, the sniper began setting up the gun as the sun continued to rise behind him, its light filtering through to the small canyon below them. If he hadn't had such an awful job to do, he might've enjoyed the interplay between the bright light and the deep shadows around the compound, but there was no time to indulge that sort of nonsense this morning...not with a mission to complete. He wanted to be done today, and on the way home tomorrow...back home to his Bones.

Smiling at the thought of her, Booth let himself indulge in a little bit of romantic reverie before getting back to business. _I can't wait to see her again...to hold her close...God, I miss her...she's so beautiful...and she loves me...Jesus, I'm a lucky guy...don't know what I did to be so lucky..._

He crawled silently on his belly as he tried to get himself in the best location to take the shot, not paying much attention when he heard some footsteps behind him a few minutes later. Without looking over his shoulder, he growled at the approaching sound. "Finally..I'm glad you're back, Rami…we need….hmmph..."

Feeling a sudden sharp pain in his side, Booth rolled over on his back and found the business end of a rifle pointing at his nose. A man was yelling at him in Pashto, gesturing at Booth with the barrel of the gun. Holding up his hands in surrender, Booth tried to sit up, only to be kicked in the ribs again by the man, who appeared to be on guard duty. Groaning as he tried to move out of the way, Booth cringed as the man raised the rifle as if to shoot, knowing he'd be done for if he was shot with that rifle at point blank range. His heart pounded wildly as he tried to appease the man standing over him. "Please…", he began in broken Pashto. "...I'm a friend…" His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do to avoid being killed. _Goddammit...I wonder if I can kick this fucker in the balls...I gotta get away...can't let him shoot me...shit..._

The man nodded toward the house, motioning with the gun for Booth to stand up as he shouted in heavily accented English. "No friend. American...you come with me…now...unhhh..." The sentry's words gave way to a deep groaning cry as Rami's left arm snaked around the man's throat while he plunged his grandfather's knife deep into the man's lower back with his right hand. Gasping in pain, the man sank to his knees, falling forward as Rami forced the large blade further into the man's body, thrusting firmly upward into his victim's vital organs before withdrawing it slowly. Kicking the man over onto his back, Rami calmly reached down and slit the man's throat with a flick of his wrist. Glancing up at an astonished Booth, the younger man drew a trembling sigh as he surveyed his kill. "I met his partner down the hill from here, but he won't give us any more trouble, either. I had to kill them both, Booth. I had to make sure this one was dead, too. The success of our mission is paramount…we couldn't risk them raising the alarm for the guys down at the house." Using the dead man's shirt, Rami carefully cleaned the blood and tissue from the blade before returning the heavy knife to the leather sheath attached to his waistband. Without hesitation, he reached for the spotting scope. "Are we ready?"

Stunned at what he'd just witnessed, Booth exhaled slowly to calm himself. Clenching his shaking hands, he felt himself go weak in the knees for a few seconds. "Jesus, Rami...am I ever glad to see you! I can't believe I almost got myself killed by making some fucking rookie mistake! Goddammit...I really should've been more careful...I should've been paying more attention to my surroundings. We talked about there being guards up here, but I guess my mind was somewhere else instead of where it should've been. I must be losing it...I'm getting too old for this shit." As his adrenaline rush subsided, Booth suddenly realized his friend was silent and pale, as if in shock. "Are you okay, Rami?", he asked in a quiet voice. "I know how hard it is to do that…"

"To do what? To kill a man like that? To kill some guy with my own two hands? Stabbing them in the back like that? Slitting a man's throat? I suppose that's true...it is hard...but it was necessary in order for us to complete our assignment." Rami closed his eyes, trying to stop his tears from overflowing as his emotions overtook him. "Look, I've been trained in special ops tactics and close quarters combat just like you have, Booth. I always go into a mission like this with the expectation that I'll have to face the enemy...knowing that I might have to kill someone just the same as you might have to do. Even though spotters are supposed to be above the fray, I know the danger that's involved...I know the cost..."

Booth nodded slowly. "Yeah, but it's different when you actually have to use that training, isn't it? When you have to kill someone with your own hands...when you see their face…I guess it's a lot different than spotting for someone else who's gonna pull the trigger instead of you."

"Yeah, I get it. You think I'm all shook up about it, right? That I've lost my nerve and can't continue the mission? Listen, I'm fine...", Rami lied. "...but this little wrinkle here means we gotta take care of this project today. When their two guards don't come back for lunch this afternoon, this hill will be swarming with guys looking for them…and we'd have no chance at completing it tomorrow."

"You're right. It's got to be today." Booth groaned in pain as he rolled back onto his stomach, wondering if his ribs had been broken when the sentry kicked him. "Not that that having a few broken ribs makes any difference if I can still shoot. _"_ , he muttered sardonically. "Yeah...let's get this job done." Shouldering the rifle, he glanced back at Rami. "Christ, I can't believe how goddamn stupid I was to let that mother fucker get the jump on me like that. I really should've known better. How come that guy didn't just shoot me in the back? Not that I'm complaining, you know, but…"

"They would've killed you soon enough, Sarge, but they wanted information from you, like who you were and who sent you...you know, stuff like that." Rami shrugged as he adjusted the scope. "I guess you were lucky I came along when I did, right?" He gave Booth a snarky grin as he continued. "Anyway, no use to dwell on making a stupid fucking mistake, okay, buddy? You're still here with us, so let's just get this over with, okay? We need get back to the base as soon as we can, so I can brag to everybody at dinner tonight about how I saved your sorry ass..."

Booth glared at his partner before looking back down at the house. "Right. Okay, I guess I'll hafta give you that one..." Puffing out a shivery sigh, Booth nodded as he looked down on the house below, watching Rami in his peripheral vision. The young man next to him wasn't just an ordinary income tax accountant who happened to be a sniper's spotter. He was also a battle hardened veteran, and, given how well Rami seemed to be holding himself together after killing two men with a knife, Booth was certain his partner on this mission had killed enemy combatants in the past. "You never get used to it, you know? Killing someone? At least I never do…"

"I don't want to get used to it." Rami shuddered slightly, staring down at the house below them as his dark eyes filled with tears once again. "I never want to do that again. When we're done here all I want to do is go home and be a boring tax accountant who coaches his sons' flag football team and has tea parties with his little girl. And I don't want to talk about it anymore, either. Let's just get this thing done so we can go home, alright?"

"You got it, Rami." Booth shifted into the proper position to take the shot. "What's our range?"

"Damn...they gave us a metric scope. 332.58 meters...about 1100 feet. -3.9 degrees Celsius...so right now it's about 25 degrees Fahrenheit...weather conditions clear..."

"Did you do those conversions in your head?" Booth looked at his spotter in awe. "Wow...that's amazing. I mean, I'm always trying to get Bones to quit talking to me about that metric shit because it's a big waste of time trying to explain it to me. I just don't get it, but she says I'm just being stubborn...that I could learn it if I wanted to..."

"Nah...I ain't that smart. It tells me the numbers in the scope." Rami snickered at Booth's glare. "Just trying to keep you on your toes, Sarge…" Noticing Booth's demeanor had suddenly become grim as he focused on house below them, Rami's voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you see him?"

"I think so. Check it out on your scope…" Booth looked through the scope on his rifle. "See the guy sitting on the right hand side of the table? Look at that picture they gave us. That's him, right? Who's the other guy? Do you know?"

Rami nodded as he jammed the small photograph back into his vest pocket. "That's Ghilzai, but I don't know who the other guy is. Probably a visitor of some sort. I think Ghilzai must be like the Godfather around here, you know? He always has people coming and going at the house, asking for favors or running errands for him." Checking his scope again, Rami gave the information to Booth. "Wind out of the south at about 15 miles per hour up here. Down there...less wind. 3 miles per hour, intermittent. Probably the wall around the courtyard is affecting the wind conditions." Holding his breath as he watched their target, Rami waited for Booth to decide the time was right. "It looks like the visitor is getting up to leave…"

Adjusting the rifle, Booth nodded. He put his eye to the sight as he aimed the Dragunov toward the man sitting at the table. Sipping his coffee as he enjoyed the morning, Adelb Ghilzai was unaware of the dangerous men on the ridge above his house, trusting that the guards he'd posted up there would be able to fend off any intruders. He'd chosen this house to take for his own because was easily defended from enemy incursions.

Inhaling sharply, Booth put his finger on the trigger, ready to take the shot, when a woman brought a plate of food out to the table for Ghilzai. She kissed the man on the cheek, resting her hand on his shoulder as they talked. Booth could see her laughing at something she'd said to Ghilzai as she stood next to him. "Dammit...move out of the way, lady. Rami, have the conditions changed at all?"

"No...you're good to go." The next few minutes seemed like hours as they waited for the woman to leave the courtyard. Finally she walked back into the main part of the house, leaving Ghilzai by himself. "Conditions are the same. Whenever you're ready, Sarge…"

Curling his finger around the trigger once more, Booth found the target's profile in his telescoping gunsite and pulled, sending a muffled gunshot toward the courtyard. The force of the bullet's impact knocked their target sideways and overturned his chair as blood and body fluids flowed from the entry wound on side of his head. The growing red stain down his neck and on the front of his shirt along with large red spray of bloody remains on the wall behind the man told Booth everything he needed to know. "Done. Take a picture with that fancy ass spy camera they gave you and then let's get the hell outta here, Rami…we gotta make tracks. They'll be after us soon..."

They scrambled and slid down the hill as fast as they could, leaving the rifle behind as planned. Racing down to the truck, they jumped in as Rami tried to start it, but the engine was slow to cooperate. He cranked the engine once again, praying that it would start quickly. "Come on...come on..son of a bitch...maybe it doesn't like the cold. Come on, baby…start for Daddy...that's a good girl." Finally the truck tentatively wheezed to life, lurching forward as Rami put it in gear, and they jostled down the gravel road toward the paved highway.

"Pick up the speed, boy...we gotta go!" Booth checked over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed. "By now they know what happened, and they'll probably know it was from up on that ridge. Floor it…come on...what the fuck? What's the hold up, Smith? We gotta get outta here! This is not the time to drive like someone's granny..."

"Take it easy, Booth! I don't want this fucking truck to slide on this gravel and flip onto its side. These goddamn farm trucks are top heavy…and the clutch on this piece of shit still slips. I shoulda had Achmed check that out yesterday." Trying to get the truck into gear, Rami scowled as he looked up at his rear view mirror. "Fuck...we got company. Bad guys on our ass..."

Turning to see two trucks coming up behind them and closing fast, Booth pulled out his pistol. "You just drive, okay? I'll take care of them…" He started to lean out the window when a bullet came whistling past his ear and another one grazed his shoulder. Ducking back inside, he shook his head. "Shit, that was close...okay, goddammit, now they've made me mad. Hand me your pistol, Rami. It may take some more ammo to beat the bastards off."

Carefully reaching out the window, Booth fired his pistol at the wheels of the lead truck, causing it to skid and wobble as both of the front tires blew out. The second truck couldn't stop in time and plowed into the first truck, knocking it on its side as they collided. The men riding in both trucks scrambled out of the cabs, launching a barrage of bullets at the escaping vehicle, with Booth continuing to return fire until they were out of range.

"Take that, mother fuckers. That ought to hold them for awhile, huh, Rami?" Noticing how pale and shaky Rami was, Booth suddenly began to worry about his spotter. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I was hit in the upper arm." He nodded at the large red stain oozing down his left shirt sleeve. "It hurts bad, Sarge...I think my fucking arm's broken…"

"Maybe we should go back to Achmed's house and get you some first aid…", Booth began.

"We can't do that, and you know it, Booth. They'll have more guys out looking for our truck soon, and we can't let them find it at Achmed's garage. We've gotta keep going. I'm fine...I can still drive…" Wobbling in his seat, an ashen Rami looked like he was about to pass out. "No big deal…"

"Pull over, quick…" Seeing Rami's grimace, Booth yelled at his partner. "That's an order, Sergeant Smith. Pull over now!" After driving the truck behind a small ridge, Rami put the truck in park. Booth jumped out and ran around to the driver's side, trying to hide his horror as he saw the extent of Rami's wound. Concerned about the possibility of his partner going into shock, Booth tore some strips of cloth from his shirt, wrapping the bandages around the gaping hole in his partner's upper arm as best he could. "I think that'll hold you until we get to the base. Just keep some pressure on it there with your hand and maybe the bleeding will stop. You're already getting really loopy, so I'm gonna drive. Stay with me, Rami...I'm gonna need you, buddy, in case we need to talk to somebody along the way. Move over, okay? I'm gonna get us back to the base as quick as I can."

"Sure thing, Sarge…" Rami's speech was slurred as his head lolled back against his seat. "I'll be fine…it's just a scratch...don' know why I can't drive...I'm jus' fine..."

"I know you'll be fine. Just hang in there, okay?" Booth inhaled sharply. He needed something to keep Rami's mind engaged so maybe he'd stay awake...something besides worrying about his bloody arm. "Hey, talk to me, Rami, okay? Tell me about Abilene, Texas...I've never been there. Tell me how you met Ziza, okay? How'd you get that pretty girl to talk to you?" Drawing a heavy sigh as he got very little response, Booth tried again. "Tell me about the Dallas Cowboys and how they're gonna beat the Washington Redskins. Come on, Rami…tell me all about it...Come on, Buddy….stay with me...ya gotta fight, Rami..."

Worried sick that his companion might bleed to death or succumb to shock as they made the two hour drive back to the base, Booth sent up some quick prayers to St. Lawrence, St. Michael, and St. George, hoping that the military's favorite saints would see fit to send aid for a fellow soldier, even if his faith was different than theirs. Surely the saints wouldn't be bothered by a little thing like religious beliefs, right? Trying to remain calm, Booth headed for the blacktop that would take them to safety. "Come on...stay with me, Rami…."

Oooooooooo

Brennan sat in the chair next to Angela's hospital bed, feeding her ice chips as Angela babbled aimlessly about everything from the ob-gyn being a nasty old bat to Hodgins quacking like a duck. Hodgins had stepped out for a minute to get some air and to calm down after Angela had yanked out yet another handful of his chest hair during a particularly painful contraction. Holding her friend's hand, the anthropologist chuckled softly. "Hodgins seems to be much calmer than I expected in this situation, Angela. He does tend to be volatile when he's under extreme pressure."

"Sweetie...you know how wonderful Hodgins is...he loves me even when I'm bitchy, right?" Angela smiled happily as Brennan nodded in agreement. "I'm so lucky….aaaahhhh!" Angela gritted her teeth as a wave of pain shot through her. "If I'm so lucky, why can't I get this kid out of me? At least we didn't have to induce labor right? It's like the doctor said...babies come when they're ready." Cringing as the contraction peaked, Angela squeezed Brennan's hand tightly. "It's so beautiful...having a child with the man you love...bringing a new life into the world...planning for the future...I hope you get to experience how wonderful this is, Brennan…you and Booth….owwww….." Crying out as another contraction passed, Angela bit her lip. "They're getting closer together, aren't they?"

"The contractions? Yes, they're only a few seconds apart now. I'm sure you'll be giving birth very soon." Smiling as she lay a cool washcloth on Angela's forehead, Brennan spoke softly. "I find that I'm looking forward to being an aunt…"

"And you're gonna be so good at it." Angela braced herself for another contraction as the labor and delivery nurse came into the room to check on her. "It looks like you're dilated to about seven, Ms. Montenegro. It won't be long now…" She made a note on the computer chart, patted Angela's hand and left.

"Is the baby coming now? What did the nurse say?" Full of questions, Hodgins came rushing into the room. "Am I too late? How's your pain, Angie? Are you sure it's too late for an epidural? Oh, my God, Angela..." He grimaced as she cried out during another contraction. "Oh, wow...I'm so sorry, Sweetheart…"

Catching her breath, Angela squeezed her husband's hand. "Calm down, Jack. We've still got a way to go." Smiling at her husband, Angela turned to her best friend. "Brennan, would you mind if I talk to my Wacky Jackie by myself for a few minutes?"

"Of course I don't mind. I'll just step out to the waiting room for awhile. I need to stretch my legs anyway…"

Brennan walked to the small visitors' lounge and sat on one of the small sofas, trying to get comfortable without much luck. Picking up a magazine, she tried to read it, but it was over a year old and didn't hold her interest for long. Sighing softly, she thought perhaps she might take a short nap. She tried to lean back against the couch, but the back was too short to support her head. Annoyed, Brennan shifted in her seat again, and noticed that the television on the wall was showing the news. She watched for a few minutes, wondering what was going on in the world that morning, when she saw the headlines crawl across the bottom. _Breaking news: The Afghan government is reporting the assassination of Adelb Ghilzai, a notorious warlord and terrorist leader wanted for committing numerous violent war crimes against his own people. He was shot to death at his home by an unknown gunman. So far no group has claimed responsibility for his death…_

Even without solid evidence and absolute proof, Brennan knew exactly what had happened. Booth had been successful on his mission, taking out that target for the Afghan government. Her heart beat a little faster as she realized he'd probably be home soon, and she was definitely looking forward to seeing him again. If everything happened according to plans, he'd be home before Christmas…and then, after a few weeks of making up for lost time, perhaps they could discuss having a child together...

Hodgins came trotting out to the waiting room. "The doctor says things are really heating up, and it's gonna be anytime now...that the baby's almost here…and Angela would like you to join us in the birthing room as we welcome our child."

"I don't understand." Brennan's brows knit together as she thought over his request. "Isn't that sort of thing normally reserved for close family members?"

Smiling broadly, Hodgins nodded as he held out his hand toward her. "Exactly…"

Finally understanding what he was saying, Brennan laughed as she quickly stood up. "Thank you, Hodgins…thank you so much." She smiled to herself as she followed Hodgins back to labor and delivery. Maybe someday, after Booth had been home for awhile, she might be the one who was waiting for a baby to come to make their family complete...and that would be a wonderful thing.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: I know some of my readers will consider it to be going against Bones canon for Booth to make such a silly mistake as mentioned in this chapter, probably bordering on heresy, and I'm sure some of you will consider it an unnecessary blot on Booth's sterling reputation. However, even the best of us make mistakes, and no real harm came from it. Booth is one of my favorite fictional characters, and it's not my intention to make him look really stupid. He just slipped up but in the end, he did what he needed to do. All's well that ends well.**_

 _ **I also wanted to add another dimension to Rami's character, and that was the best way to do it.**_

 _ **Don't worry...Booth will make up for things in the next chapter. Laura.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**I appreciate the kind reviews for this story. They keep me motivated to write. If you have time to let me know what you think about this chapter, please do. Thanks. Laura.**_

* * *

If it wasn't the longest two hours in Booth's life, it was damn near close. Driving that beat up old truck with the bad clutch down the two lane highway between Doshi and Bagram was terrifying, and not just because he had to thread his way through a series of ridiculously narrow mountain passes. Booth couldn't help but glance at Rami every few minutes, trying to keep a conversation going between the two of them as he sent up another quick and fervent prayer to all the saints in Heaven, begging for the miracle of a smooth trip back to the base.

Hearing his partner groan softly as he shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, Booth clenched his teeth in frustration. He knew Rami's pain was agonizing, but he couldn't do anything to ease it...at least not right now. Even though the spotter's shirt was soaked with blood, it seemed that his bleeding had subsided considerably, down to a mere trickle. Still, Booth was very worried about his friend's chances of survival. The younger man was pale and clammy, and his breathing was becoming more shallow as the minutes passed. _He's still alive though...for now that's gonna have to be good enough...hold on, Rami…_ "Hey, Sport...can you put your hand over your bandages? Apply some pressure there, okay? You can still do that, right? C'mon, Rami...push on it a little bit...it'll do ya good…it'll stop the bleeding.,,"

"I don't wanna, okay? My arm hurts bad. I just wanna sleep, Booth. Jus' leave me alone, okay? I'm gonna take a nap…I'm so tired...sleepy...wake me up when we get there...damn, it's so fuckin' cold..." His speech slurred, Rami's eyes closed slowly as he slumped back in his seat.

"Hang on, Rami. We'll be able to get you some help soon. Try to stay awake, alright? Hey, I need you talk to me, okay? Help me stay awake while I'm driving...help me navigate this crazy Afghan road so we don't get lost..." Booth reached across and took his spotter's left wrist to find his pulse. The tiny beat was weak and thready, but, thank God, it was still there. Focusing once again on the road, Booth thought about all of the first aid training he'd received over the years. The bullet wound Rami had taken in the arm wouldn't normally be fatal, but he'd lost a lot of blood over the last hour, and he was in a great deal of pain. Booth was holding on to a shred of hope since the shot hadn't produced any sort of arterial spurt from the wound... _Thank God for that…_ but the slow oozing of blood was still worrisome, especially given the distance they had to travel to reach Bagram.

The bigger issue was to keep Rami from succumbing to shock from his injury. Booth thought again about those words in his basic training first aid manual: if a person was in danger of going into shock, they should be kept warm, and their feet were supposed to be elevated. However, there wasn't a practical way for Rami to rest comfortably with his feet up in the cab of the truck, so they'd have to make do with what they had. Booth had put a large tool box on the floorboard of the truck's passenger side for his spotter to put his feet on, but he was sure that wasn't good enough. _Better than nothin', I suppose...at least I hope so...not much else I can do...except pray, I guess..._

Booth contemplated the situation as he stared out at the winding pavement ahead of them. They were probably an hour from Bagram even if he pushed that ramshackle truck to its limits. Feeling desperate and helpless, he pulled off the highway and checked his partner's blood soaked bandages once again. It looked like some clotting had occurred in the wound, but not enough to staunch the flow completely. Booth wrapped another layer of cloth loosely around the wound before covering his partner with some dirty blankets to keep him as warm as possible. It was obvious that Rami needed medical assistance soon, but, because of the language barrier he faced, Booth knew there was no way to seek help in any of the small villages dotting the highway back to the base without calling unwanted attention to himself and his partner. Even though he spoke some Pashto, it would probably be obvious to anyone who heard him that he wasn't a native speaker, and local curiosity about who he was and why he was there would lead to too many other questions...questions he didn't have time to answer right now. So the decision was made. There was nothing else to do but to continue to drive Rami back to the base as quickly as he could and pray that there wouldn't be any complications on the way.

Fortunately, the law enforcement agencies in the area seemed to be putting very little effort into making sure drivers followed any sort of speed limit on the main thoroughfare to Bagram. Driving as fast as he dared in the dilapidated truck, Booth figured he was making pretty good time, and he hoped to be in the vicinity of the Bagram encampment shortly. He reached over and patted Rami on the shoulder, trying to rouse his partner. "Wake up, buddy...we're gonna be home soon."

Rami moved slightly in the seat, turning a glassy eyed stare at Booth. "We're back in Abilene? That was quick. I thought we were still in Afghanistan. How'd we get to Texas already?"

"What? No, not home to Texas, Rami. I meant we're almost back to Bagram. Listen, as soon as they let us onto the base, I'm gonna drive you over to the hospital so the medics can take a look at your arm, okay?" Grimacing as he looked over Rami's native Afghan outfit, Booth blew out a frustrated sigh. "You still look like one of the goddamn locals, you know? You'd better get rid of that fucking hat for sure. Have you got your military ID in one of your pockets somewhere? How about your dog tags? Aren't they around your neck? I gotta make sure the soldiers on the guard detail know we're the good guys, so they'll let us in." Booth pulled his dog tags out from underneath the olive drab tee shirt he'd worn under his Afghani clothing, but there was no way to look for Rami's tags while he was driving. "Don't want them to think we're terrorists, right?"

"I ain't no fucking terrorist." Speaking slowly, Rami scrunched up his face in pain as he tried to think about where his real identification materials might be. He used his right arm to tug at his shirt collar for a few seconds, trying to find the chain that held his tags. "I don't know where my fucking dog tags are. I guess I got my card on me somewhere, but I don't wanna look for it right now, okay? I'm so cold, Booth, and my arm hurts real bad...what happened? Where are we?" Shivering slightly, Rami pulled his blankets closer. "What time is it? Did we get Ghilzai? Are we in Texas? Wanna see my kids..." Thrashing around, he was becoming agitated as he continued to ask questions. "What the fuck happened? Why are you driving?"

"Take it easy, Rami, and I'll tell you what happened." Booth tried to soothe his partner as he glanced at his watch. "It's about 1:30 in the afternoon. You got shot early this morning, remember? You were driving the truck down the hill away from the house where we took out that target, and some of the bastards who were chasing us started shooting at the truck. You were hit in the arm, okay? I tore up that nice new Afghani shirt I had on to make some bandages for you. Sergeant Leary is gonna be pretty mad about that, you know…" Booth tried to grin, hoping his partner would relax. "I'm gonna take you to see a doctor as soon as I can when we get to the base, and maybe he can make your arm stop hurting…"

"I'm thirsty." Wincing as he shifted in his seat, Rami glared at Booth as he pointed to the box of provisions Achmed had given them. "Need some water…now...Booth..."

"I know you're thirsty, but we need to wait a little bit before you have any, okay? The doctor may want to do surgery right away to fix your arm, and you can't have anything on your stomach, just in case. We'll be there pretty quick…"

"You goddamn son of a bitch...give me some fucking water now!" Rami tried to reach for a bottle by himself before his pain overtook him, making him groan loudly as he shrank back in to the seat. "Ow...that hurt bad. No water for me, huh." He glared at his partner as he picked at the makeshift bandages on his arm. "You're a real rotten son of a bitch, ain't ya, Booth?"

Chuckling at Rami's annoyance in spite of himself, Booth nodded. "You got that right, Rami. I'm a rotten son of a bitch."

Oooooooooo

After taking a couple of wrong turns on the outskirts of town, Booth finally found the road leading up to the gate at Bagram Air Force Base. Pulling slowly up to the gatehouse, he rolled down the truck window to talk to the sentry on duty.

"I need to see some identification, sir…", the guard began cautiously as he glanced at Booth's passenger suspiciously. "I'm sure you understand…"

"Yeah, I understand. Here's my ID, but Sergeant Smith there is in no shape to look for his ID card right now, and I couldn't find his dog tags, either. He took a bullet in his arm a couple of hours ago and he's still bleeding quite a bit, so I need to get him to the base hospital as soon as possible. I know this seems mighty hinky, what with him looking like one of the locals and all, but you can believe me...he's US Army, okay? So you can let us pass..."

The sentry was unconvinced. "Those are my orders, Sergeant Major. I need to see some ID for everyone who enters the base."

"Look, I know what your orders are, and you're doing a great job, but I need you to trust me...he's one of the good guys, and he's been wounded. He needs medical assistance."

The young man shook his head, much to Booth's frustration. "That may be true, but I still need to see some ID for him. Those are my orders."

"Listen, you saw my ID, and it was the real deal, right?" The guard nodded slowly. "So use your brain, you fucking idiot. If I'm in the US Army, would I really bring a bad guy onto the base with me? That'd be a stupid thing to do..."

"I dunno...I guess you could be a traitor...or a suicide bomber…" Shaking his head resolutely, the private stood his ground. "I really do need to see some ID for your passenger in order for you to enter the base, Sergeant Major."

"Seriously? Come on! Okay, look, I know you're just following orders, but I really don't want to move him round a lot to look for his card. I don't know how bad his injuries really are." Booth impatiently tapped his fingers against the truck's steering wheel as the private struggled with indecision about whether or not to let them pass. Seeing the private's reluctance, Booth continued in an irritated tone. "I tell you what...let's do this. I need you to call Major Evans' office immediately and tell whoever you talk to that Sergeant Major Booth is back from his mission and awaiting admittance at the main gate, alright? He'll vouch for us, I promise. Tell him that Sergeant Smith was wounded in action, and that I'm heading to the base hospital to get him treatment for his injuries. I guarantee whoever you talk to will give you the okay to let me pass. He's expecting me, you know? So I'll wait right here while you go call..."

The young sentry was not happy with the idea of bothering the base commander with what seemed to be such a trivial problem. "With all due respect, Sergeant Major, I don't think it's a good idea for me to call the major right now. He's a busy man, you know? Corporal Ames will be back from lunch in a half hour, and he can give you the okay, or maybe he could call Major Evans for you...you can pull the truck over there and wait for him if you want..."

"Son of a bitch!" Angrily scowling at the young GI, Booth flashed his identification card again, making sure the young man saw the rank insignia printed on it. "Seriously, Private...what is it...Matthews? So, Private Matthews, in your experience in this man's Army, has it ever been a good idea for a lowly mother fucking private like yourself to question the orders of a Sergeant Major like me? Listen carefully to what I'm telling you, okay, you goddamn meathead? See if these words can get through that thick goddamn skull of yours, okay? I'm giving you a direct order. You got that, you fucking jackass? A direct fucking order! Now, if you don't have big enough balls to make a fucking phone call to Major Evans' office within the next five minutes so I can enter this base legally and get Sergeant Smith to the base hospital before he bleeds to death, then by fucking God you better find someone who does have the goddamn balls to make the fucking call, because otherwise I'm getting ready to drive this fucking truck through your fucking gate whether you move your sorry goddamn ass out of the way or not. Do I make myself clear, Private Matthews, or do you need some more convincing? Maybe you want to spend the rest of your hitch in the fucking stockade for disobeying a direct order from a superior officer! Is that what you want? Because that's exactly what's gonna happen if you do not comply with my orders immediately! Now go make the fucking phone call!"

"No, Sergeant Major Booth...I mean, yes, Sergeant Major Booth. I'll make the call…" Private Matthews quickly trotted back to the gatehouse to make the call, waving for Booth to pass after just a few minutes on the phone. "Major Evans will call the hospital to tell them you're on the way, Sergeant Major."

Booth rolled his eyes as he tried to get the truck in gear. "It's about time! Thank you for your assistance, Private Matthews." Still seething, Booth hurriedly made the short drive from the gate to the base hospital. Parking the truck near the emergency entrance, he ran inside and found a medic working at the front desk. "Quick! I need some help out here with my partner…he's hurt bad..." A trio of nurses followed him out to the truck with a gurney. Booth gently helped Rami out of the passenger's seat and onto the waiting hospital bed. "Okay, buddy, here we are. Just relax...they'll take good care of you now. I'll be inside in a minute, okay?" Watching as his friend was being wheeled away, an exhausted Booth leaned against the side of the truck, unashamed as he wiped away the tears streaming down his face.

Oooooooooo

Sitting on a bench in the hallway outside the examination room, Booth waited impatiently to talk to the doctor who'd been examining Rami. He had tried desperately to stay awake, but the stress of the last few days seemed to finally catch up with him. He was snoring softly when Major Evans sat down on the bench next to him.

"Booth?" Evans gently tapped the sleeping man on the shoulder.

"Hmmph? Oh, Major Evans…sorry, sir.", Booth mumbled, straightening up as he tried to salute. "Has the doctor come out of the exam room yet? I was waiting to talk to him so I could find out about the extent of Sergeant Smith's injury."

"I don't think so. At least I haven't seen the doc yet." The major hesitated a few seconds before continuing. "Listen, I'm sorry that Smith got shot, Booth, but the mission...the mission itself was a great success, and that's a good thing as far as the big brass is concerned. Our allies were very pleased with the outcome as well, especially since the mission was completed a few days ahead of schedule. Keeps the bad guys on their toes, you know? The Afghan government put out the word to the press about Ghilzai's death by an assassin's hand as soon as the kill was confirmed by their guys. Once they pull the picture off the camera you guys had with you, they'll leak it to the press all over this fucking country, and probably around the rest of the region, too. They want to make everybody else think twice about screwing up…like maybe the Hand of God can come after them, too, if they commit acts of treachery and terrorism. Good work, Booth...both countries appreciate your service."

Sighing softly, Booth shook his head as he glanced at Major Evans. "Well, I guess it's a good deal to make everybody happy with our work, but I can tell you one thing for sure, sir. I won't be doing anymore of their dirty work for them. They can get some other poor bastard to be the Hand of God next time around, 'cause it sure as hell won't be me."

"Yeah, I get that." Major Evans cleared his throat as he nodded at Booth. "As it is, I'd say you boys were lucky to make it back here in one piece. That truck had a lot of damage done to it...the driver's side mirror was shattered, as you know, and the sergeant in charge of the motor pool said there were about six or seven bullet holes in the back end and a couple in the side behind the driver's door. Fortunately, whoever was chasing you was a lousy shot. They missed the gas tank completely, or you might've gone up in a giant fireball." Chuckling softly, he glanced at Booth. "They had to tow that damn truck away from the parking lot. The transmission's shot to Hell...they couldn't even get it in gear to pull it out of the spot where you left it when you got here."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Booth leaned against the wall behind him, chewing his lip nervously as he glanced at his watch. "Jesus...It's been a couple of hours since I brought Rami in. I wonder why the doctor hasn't been out to see me. He knows I'm here, waiting to talk to him…"

"You told the private at the gate and the medic in the ER that Smith had lost a lot of blood, right?"

"Yeah...by the way, that's not all I told that private. I know he was just doing his job, but I gave him a royal ass chewing because he wouldn't let us pass. I guess it was adrenaline or something, but I guess I was unprofessional. Sorry 'bout that, Major. I was a real nasty bastard to the kid..."

"Yeah, so I heard." Seeing Booth's surprise, Major Evans chuckled as he explained. "When I spoke to Corporal Ames about our little communication problem at the gatehouse, he said Private Matthews was still quaking in his boots. No problem, Sarge. No harm done. You're right...he was just following orders, but maybe the kid should've been quicker to figure out how to solve the problem, right? Anyway, it probably did Matthews some good in the long run. It'll damn sure make him hurry to follow orders on the double next time, right?" Glancing down the hall, Evans scratched his chin nervously. "Maybe they're giving Smith a transfusion or something…" Major Evans shrugged as he got up to pace the hallway. "I'm sure he'll be fine, Booth…they just need some time to fix him up...hey, here comes the doc..."

Dressed in bloody scrubs, the tall middle-aged man cleared his throat as he approached the two men. "Sergeant Major Booth? Major Evans? I'm Captain Klein. I'm the surgeon who's been working on Sergeant Smith's wounds." Holding a file folder, the doctor sat on a bench opposite of Booth. "It was a little touch and go there for a few minutes, but we have Smith stabilized for now. Due to the amount of bleeding he had from the injury, we had to give him two units of blood…"

Booth groaned softly as he looked up at the ceiling. "I tried to stop the bleeding as best I could, Captain, but no matter what I did, that wound just kept on oozing, you know? I was afraid to use a tourniquet on his arm since we were so far out from the base…I was trying to avoid further damage to his arm. "

"That was a good choice." The doctor opened the folder and pulled out an x-ray, holding it up so the men could look at it. "I know it's difficult to see with the lighting out here in the hall, but this is the fracture...this area right here." Pointing at the image on the film, Klein explained Rami's injuries. "So I guess the good news, if you want to call it that, is that the bullet hit the arm in just the right spot as far as Sergeant Smith's future health is concerned. The humerus was pretty well shattered from the impact of the shot as the large round went from back to front through his upper arm, but there appears to be minimal damage to most of the larger nerves in the area. A quick MRI showed that the triceps was transected and that one of the heads of the biceps was torn away from the bone by the bullet. Several smaller blood vessels were compromised, but the brachial artery wasn't even nicked, which is probably why he survived the trip back to the base. Any sort of damage to that major artery would most likely have been catastrophic."

Inserting the X ray back into the file, the surgeon continued. "We've done an emergency surgical repair for now, so we've been able to stop the bleeding and have temporarily immobilized his arm. The plan at the present time is to make sure Smith's body is coping well with the amount of blood loss he sustained and the transfusions he's received before we arrange to transfer him to Ramstein, probably within the next two to three days. However, it's a very long flight, and we want to make sure he's up to it to avoid any further complications. The orthopedists in Germany will probably have to do some fairly extensive surgery on the humerus to repair it, most likely pinning it with screws, although I guess they might even have to insert a plate or possibly implant some cadaver bone to stabilize the pieces while the bone knits back together. They'll also have to figure out how to re-attach the biceps to the bone and repair the tear in the triceps, but I feel sure that Sergeant Smith will eventually regain most of the use of his arm after he's had some extensive physical therapy. When he gets stateside, the staff at Walter Reed will come up with a plan for his rehabilitation, which can then be administered at a facility closer to his home. We just don't have that sort of capability at our dinky little hospital. Here at beautiful Bagram General, we just patch'em up and pass'em on." Captain Klein rose from his bench and reached out to shake Booth's hand. "I must say I'm impressed with how well you handled the situation, Sergeant Major. Given the circumstances, you did a fine job of caring for Sergeant Smith's wounds. You did the best you could to assist your comrade, and no one could ask for more from a soldier under what must certainly have been combat conditions. I'm sure you realize things could've been much worse if you'd done nothing at all. Your partner might've lost his arm...or lost his life from blood loss…"

"But you think he's going to be alright, huh, Captain? That's great." Visibly relieved, Booth slumped back against the wall. "Hey, when can I see him?"

Captain Klein scratched the back of his neck as he thought about the request. "Let's wait until tomorrow morning...say 0930 or so. He's still pretty heavily sedated right now. As you know, he was in a tremendous amount of pain when he got here..."

"Thanks. I'll make sure to get all of his stuff together to go with him when he heads out for Germany." Booth tried to smile, but he was suddenly exhausted. "Hey, thanks for all your hard work, Doc...you and your nurses...I'm glad you guys were here for him."

"No problem. That's our job." Captain Klein paused for a few seconds as he looked through Smith's file again, then smiled faintly as he studied the man in front of him. "So, do you have any other questions, Sergeant Major? I mean, the information I just gave you about Smith's wound is complex…You know, about the damage to the muscles and the humerus..."

"Nah, I understand what you told me. I get it. Rami's upper arm was badly damaged by a shot piercing the bone in there, and the repairs will be hard to do, but eventually he'll regain some use of his arm." Booth shrugged as he grinned at the doctor. "My girlfriend is a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian Institute, and she and I solve murders together for the FBI in DC. That's the sort of jargon she uses to describe the stuff we see when we go out to crime scenes. I guess I just picked up on what it all means after hearing it all the time."

"I see. Very good." Casting a wary eye at Booth, the doctor pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You don't have any major wounds or injuries, do you, Sergeant Major Booth? Anything we need to check out? You seem to have quite a bit of blood on your clothing...and it looks like maybe you have a bullet wound on your neck..."

"No, I'm fine, thanks, Captain." Booth reached up self consciously to touch the place where he'd been grazed. "It's just a scratch. Don't worry about me, okay? You just take care of Rami." After thanking again Captain Klein for his help, Booth cringed as he looked down at his bloodstained clothes. "This is mostly Smith's blood, isn't it, Major Evans? Jesus...he really did bleed like crazy. I guess we're lucky he made it home alive."

Major Evans exhaled softly as he surveyed Booth's bloody clothing. "Yeah, he did bleed a helluva lot, and it looks like maybe you bled some, too, judging by the size of that fucking 'scratch' on your neck." Rising from his spot on the bench, the major checked his watch. "It's about 1430. Why don't you go get cleaned up, Booth? Take a nap if you want. I'll tell Sergeant Whitmore to set aside some chow for you so you don't have to rush around to get to the mess hall before dinner's over, okay? That way you can eat when you're ready."

Pulling on his damp, sticky clothes, Booth grimaced slightly as he nodded. "Thanks, Major. That sounds like a great idea. Do you want me to give you a debriefing about the project this evening after dinner?"

"I think it can wait until morning, say 1100 hours in my office. After all, you've already told me a lot of the important stuff, right? I mean, you got the guy, and that's what matters most. We can go over all of the tactics and secondary shit like that tomorrow morning after you go see Smith."

"Okay, I'll see you then." Booth hesitated as another thought occurred to him. "Oh, by the way...who's gonna call Rami's wife? Somebody needs to let her know he's been wounded. Maybe I should call her..."

"I'll let the brass know, and they'll get a casualty information officer to call her. From what Captain Klein said, Smith will be listed as 'Seriously Injured', and the Army will issue her some Invitational Travel Orders. It won't be long 'til she's on a flight to Germany so she can be with him for his surgery. They'll have a place where she can stay on the base until they send him stateside." Major Evans waved off Booth's tired protests. "I'll take care of it, okay? You need to get some rest."

"Okay, thanks. I appreciate it." Looking back over his shoulder, Booth finally allowed himself a small smile. "God, I'm so glad Rami's gonna be okay. Now I won't feel so bad when I get ready to go home. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning, Major Evans."

"Tomorrow morning." Major Evans watched Booth walk away, shaking his head sadly. If only things were as easy as Booth made them out to be...

Oooooooooo

Standing in the tiny bathroom, Booth slowly peeled off his blood soaked tee shirt and added it to the heap of ruined garments on the floor. There seemed to be little use in trying to wash all of the blood out of the clothes. "Might as well burn them.", he said to himself. "I'm not gonna need any more of those Afghani clown pants, or Army uniforms, either, after I get home, so I might as well get rid of everything now. I'll take them over to Sergeant Leary tomorrow morning to have her take care of them...maybe she can issue me some new clothes to wear home..."

Looking in the mirror, he shook his head, checking the broad red scrape on the base of his neck and the ugly purple bruises over the ribs on his right side. "Jesus...I was so goddamn lucky Rami was there to save my ass today.", he muttered to himself "That guy deserves a medal...maybe I'll ask Major Evans to recommend him for a Bronze Star. Smith is definitely a hero in my book. Yeah, I'll mention that at the debriefing in the morning..."

He turned the hot water on full blast in the shower and stood under the pounding stream for a few minutes, watching absentmindedly as the bloody water ran down the drain. _I guess it's a good thing the adrenaline kicked in after Rami was shot. If I'd known how much blood there really was on my clothes, I think I might've panicked._ He scrubbed his hands and fingernails with a stiff brush to remove as much blood as possible, but he still felt sticky and dirty. Sighing as he washed his hair again, he knew the feeling he had of being filthy had nothing to do with the blood that stubbornly clung to his skin. What he was actually feeling was another guilty stain weighing on his soul. _Ghilzai was a rotten bastard who killed people for the fun of it. Who cares if he's dead? Maybe I did the world a favor…_ but Booth knew the act of killing the warlord would bother him for a while, especially when he thought of the woman who had been there at the house with the target. She had obviously been fond of the man, even if he was a killer, and now maybe her life would be ruined because the man she loved was dead at a sniper's hand. _How could she love a guy like that? A crazed maniac? A terrorist? I guess it didn't make any difference to her...maybe she loved him no matter what...like Bones loves me...I kill guys, too, but she still loves me..._

Turning off the water and grabbing a towel as he stepped out of the shower, Booth shook his head. Love made people do some crazy things, and he'd had first hand experience with that. _It's true that being in love has never made me kill anyone. I mean, I've threatened to do it if someone looked at Bones the wrong way, but I've never pulled that trigger. However, Love did make me back my sweet Bones into a corner that night at the Hoover, right? I wanted her so bad, and I thought I couldn't wait any longer...I couldn't take the chance of losing her, and then I almost did anyway. And then Hannah came along, and I thought I loved her as much as I loved Bones...God...I was such a fucking idiot..._ Realizing what he'd almost lost as he'd searched for someone to ease his broken heart shook him to his core. _Thank God I got a second chance with Bones…I never want to be in that position again...I never want to be without her in my life. I gotta make her mine on a permanent basis. Maybe she won't marry me, but I gotta let her know I'm committed to her forever...I'm never gonna want anyone else in my life but her...it's always been her, and it always will be...I gotta make her stay with me..._

Booth pulled on a clean tee shirt and some boxers before plopping down on his cot. He paused, looking over at Rami's half of the tiny room before he opened his laptop. He'd have to collect what few possessions Rami had left behind and deliver them to the hospital in the morning so they'd go with Rami to the base at Ramstein, but at least his spotter was alive and would recover. Master Sergeant Smith would be able to coach his sons at football and have tea parties with his little girl for many years to come.

Overwhelmed with exhaustion and emotion, Booth opened up his computer, wanting to pour his heart out to his girlfriend in an email, but everything he wrote seemed wrong. Finally deciding that what he wanted to say to her was best said in person, he dashed off a quick message before drifting off to sleep.

" _Success. Hope to see you soon. I love you. Booth."_

Oooooooooo

Major Evans sat in his darkened office that evening, his face hidden in his hands. _Christ...What the fuck have I gotten myself into?_

He'd already put in the call to Kandahar. The Casualty Information Officer would be calling Mrs. Smith within the next twelve hours to let her know that her husband was wounded in action. _At least he's still alive…"_ The Army was usually efficient in these matters, so there was no reason to believe this occasion would be any different. If she wanted to fly to Germany to be with her husband, those arrangements would be made for her.

That wasn't the problem…

Evans stared at the phone as he tried to decide what to do. Normally an honorable man, he'd been caught in a horrible snare because of his one fatal weakness. He wished he could say it was someone else's fault...that someone had set him up and led him astray. That might really be true, but he knew better. He should never have given into that temptation while he was at work. Now it was time to pay the piper…

Put in the proverbial no win situation, the major sighed as he considered whether to give up his 25 year career in the military, or to give up a man to an extremely dangerous situation. He wanted to be strong...to be brave...to do the right thing, no matter the cost…

But he couldn't do it. In the end, he was just another sorry son of a bitch who was out to save his own ass, and the price for that frailty would probably be the loss of another man's life. Thoroughly disgusted with himself, he picked up the phone and made the call, knowing he'd regret it for the rest of his life.

"It's me. He's back from his trip...yeah, they made the problem go away. Your friend will be in my office at 1100 tomorrow for his 'debriefing'. You can pick him up then and we'll be done, right? You promised, okay? Bring everything with you...all the computer files on a drive...everything. I'll have the money, too, just as we discussed. Yeah. Okay."

Ending the call, Major Evans sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, muttering softly to himself as tears ran down his face. "I'm sorry, Booth...I'm so sorry…"

* * *

 _ **The designation SI means severely injured. Thanks for reading...more soon.**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: thanks to all of you for your comments. While it's true that we'll have some angst, I promise you that things will work out in the long run. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the ride. Please remember this story is AU.**_

* * *

Brennan stood at the stove in Angela's kitchen, absentmindedly stirring the pot of homemade vegetable soup she was heating for her friend's lunch. As she watched the peas and carrots swirl around in the broth, she couldn't help thinking of Booth, wondering where he was and what he was doing at that very moment. "Silly, opinionated man. He hates having those 'big green peas' in his soup, doesn't he?", she commented to herself, smiling as she thought about the last time they'd eaten vegetable soup together. She couldn't help but be surprised as she realized that occasion had been over a year ago. She ladled some of the hot mixture into a large mug and carried it to the family room for Angela.

"Who were you talking to, Sweetie?" Angela chuckled as she switched her newborn son from one arm to another. "Michael-Vincent wants to know, doesn't he?" She made a funny face at the baby before smiling at Brennan. "He wants to know what his Auntie T is up to."

Slightly embarrassed, Brennan answered shyly. "It's nothing, really, Angela. I was just talking to myself." Seeing her friend's surprise, she shrugged a shoulder as she explained. "I was thinking about the last time I made this soup for Booth…it was right before we left for our separate journeys all those months ago. I was due to leave in a couple of days, and I was busy with completing all of my arrangements to travel to the site, but he wanted me to make him a home cooked meal before he left on his deployment, so we decided to have dinner together one evening. For some reason he wanted vegetable soup instead of his usual steak and baked potato." Biting her trembling lip, Brennan handed Angela the mug and a spoon before sitting down opposite of her friend. "I don't know why…"

"Well, you do make good soup, Sweetie.", Angela commented as she sniffed the fragrant broth. "Makes sense to me."

"I suppose. You know, I never realized how much Booth had insinuated himself into my life until he was no longer a part of it. He has even affected the way I cook now, believe it or not." Seeing the question in Angela's expression, Brennan tried to explain. "He can be so silly at times. In some ways, he's a very picky eater...almost like a little boy. He doesn't like to have English peas in his vegetable soup because he thinks they get too soft, or, as he says, 'too squishy'. Whoever heard of making vegetable soup without peas?" Chuckling at the thought, she shook her head. "He also wanted me to add more garlic and a dash of oregano to the vegetable broth, thinking that it would taste like it had 'real meat' in it instead of tasting like 'that nasty tofu crap'. I kept telling him the recipe was fine the way it was, but he insisted that recipes are only guidelines. I think he said they were a jumping off point and that I could 'fancy it up' anyway I wanted." Managing a weak smile, she continued softly. "I remember telling him that a jumping off point was one thing, but jumping off a cliff was quite another, and he laughed, saying that was a 'good one'. He'd always laugh at my jokes, even if they weren't very funny. I suppose he was trying to encourage growth in my rather limited sense of humor. Anyway, we had the vegetable soup and some apple pie with ice cream for dinner that evening before we watched a hockey game. We were at his apartment, and he has this giant television set up in the living room. We sat quite close to it so we could 'feel like we were on center ice' as we watched the game. We had a such a good time that evening. He kept trying to explain the rules of the sport to me, but they're quite elaborate, and even though I'm quite intelligent, I never could completely understand them, not that it mattered much. It was just enjoyable to see how excited he got about the match. He was alternating between yelling and laughing like a small child as the game progressed, all because two teams of men on skates were chasing a small black object up and down an ice rink..."

Bouncing her baby gently, Angela tilted her head to one side as she studied her friend. "Bren, I know you miss Booth a lot, but you make it sound like he's never coming home. I mean, I know it must seem like he's been gone forever, but what's it been...three weeks or four weeks since he left? You've heard from him, haven't you?"

"It's been approximately three and a half weeks since he left. I received an email from him while he was in Germany, and then an email a few days ago, telling me that he'd been successful with his project, and he hoped to be home soon." Brennan held out her arms toward the sleeping baby. "Would you like me to hold Michael-Vincent so you can eat your soup before it gets cold?"

"Thanks." Angela placed her infant son in her friend's arms and then sat back in her chair. Stirring the soup in the mug, she spoke quietly. "So Booth took out the target, right? And he's safe, and he should be back in a week or two…probably before Christmas?"

"That was the supposition I'd made when I saw the news about that Afghan warlord's assassination the day Michael-Vincent was born, but I guess it's possible he may still have some more work to do, and it's even possible that the man who died wasn't his target at all. I have no proof of his target's identity. He really couldn't tell me anything about his mission except that he'd be gone approximately six weeks, so I really have no idea what his plans are or when he'll actually be home."

"You just know that you want him home soon." Angela nodded as she sipped her soup. "I completely understand, Sweetie. It's hard, isn't it? Being separated like that from someone you love?"

Sighing quietly, Brennan agreed. "It is quite difficult, especially since we should never have been separated in the first place." Seeing Angela's confusion and concern, Brennan hesitated before she explained her situation to Angela. "I'm not sure what you know about everything that happened between Booth and me in the recent past, so forgive me if I'm repeating myself." Taking a deep breath, the anthropologist continued quietly, trying to control her emotions as she spoke. "Several months ago, after a meeting with Sweets in which we discussed the book he was writing about our partnership, Booth asked me to enter into a romantic relationship with him, but I panicked. For some reason, even though I'd known for some time that he cared deeply for me, his request seemed so sudden, and I didn't have time to think things through, because he was pressing me for an immediate answer. However, in the end, I was afraid I'd disappoint him...that I'd cause him pain, and then he'd regret being with me...because I assumed I'd be unable to maintain that sort of relationship adequately, so I told him that wasn't what I wanted. I explained that I couldn't love him like that, since, as a rational scientist, I knew I would be unable to change my opinion about the vagaries of romantic love. I told him I only wanted to be work partners with him, and, of course, he was quite disappointed, but I thought it was for the best...at the time..."

Brennan adjusted the blanket around the baby, avoiding eye contact with Angela. "I soon discovered how difficult it was to keep our lives at work and our personal lives separate, especially since we normally spent most of our time together. Booth had made a conscious effort to 'move on', and I had to accept that many things would now different between us, even though I had hoped our relationship would stay the same. Looking back, it was silly of me to think that way. I should've known that our lives would evolve...that we'd go in different directions after such an upheaval. That's when he began dating Catherine, and that's why I decided to pursue a relationship with Andrew."

"And that's why you eventually decided to go to Indonesia? Because you were feeling so conflicted?" Seeing Brennan's sad expression, Angela winced slightly. "Oh, Sweetie...you could never disappoint Booth. He's been in love with you for a long time...he's always loved you just the way you are. I wish you'd stayed and tried to work it out with him…." Angela reached over to pat Brennan's hand. "...but I guess that's why you needed a break, right? To figure out what you wanted?"

Brennan sighed softly. "Yes. The very strong emotions I felt were quite confusing for me, and it became difficult to function adequately at work, both in the lab and with the FBI. I had said I didn't want a romantic relationship with Booth, but I found I was quite upset when he started seeing someone else within a social context...that he had another romantic interest so soon after I had said 'no' to his request. I began to realize that what I was feeling was jealousy towards Catherine, and I found that epiphany to be quite disturbing. I've always considered myself to be immune to those sorts of irrational feelings, but it quickly became apparent that I was not. So I decided to leave DC to allow myself time to think things through logically, without any emotional distractions."

"Well, Booth only went out with Dr. Byers for a few times, Brennan. It wasn't like it was ever gonna be a permanent thing, just like you and Hacker could never be a twosome. It just wasn't meant to be. Anyway, going to Indonesia was kind of an extreme way to handle things, right?" Blowing on a spoonful of soup to cool it, Angela's brows knit in confusion. "I mean, why not just go to Jamaica for a few weeks? You know, you could've relaxed on a beautiful sunny beach and considered your options at your leisure, instead of working in a muddy hole in the middle of a steaming jungle...you know, that nasty jungle filled with poisonous snakes, giant bugs, and dangerous locals..."

"When the opportunity presented itself for me to be a part of the Maluku project, it gave me the reason I needed to separate myself from Booth for a lengthy period of time, so I could make my decision. And you know him, Angela...if I'd said I was going on a three week vacation to Jamaica, he'd find a way to insert himself into my plans, and I wouldn't be able to concentrate on my emotional well being. Remember what happened when I tried to go to China by myself? He got himself assigned as the agent to 'protect' our proprietary technology…"

Angela laughed out loud. "Hey, don't tell me you didn't enjoy having him along on that trip...you know, sitting with a handsome man on that plane...just the two of you, enjoying champagne in first class…and sitting on a Jamaican beach with him while you enjoyed some rum punch together would've been nice, too, right?"

"That's beside the point, Angela. You certainly must be aware of my meaning." Brennan pretended to glare at her friend. "Do you want to hear the rest of my story or not?"

Angela nodded as she ate another spoonful of soup. "Okay, okay. What happened next?"

"While I was in Maluku, after I had time to actually think about how much I had evolved emotionally since I'd begun working with Booth, I'd decided that I had grown enough to take a chance on a relationship with him, but by the time I saw him again after we'd both returned, he was thoroughly involved in a romantic liaison with Hannah, with whom he'd become acquainted on his deployment. I was extremely disappointed that'd I'd lost my chance with him, of course, but I hoped to make the best of things, and I wanted to maintain our work partnership, but it was very difficult, because I realized how much I'd lost whenever I saw them being happy together. However, something happened which caused a dramatic change in our partnership status at work."

"Really? What? Why didn't you tell me?" Anxious to hear more, Angela pressed her friend for details. "Does this have anything to do with why you ended your partnership with Booth?"

"Yes. I didn't know the whole truth myself until a few weeks ago." Exhaling slowly, Brennan kept her eyes focused on the sleeping child in her arms. "It seems that Hannah lied to me when she told me Booth no longer wanted to be my partner or my friend. She also said he was afraid to tell me himself, which was why she was delivering the news for him. I was devastated, but I still considered him my friend...as someone I loved...so I complied with what I thought were his wishes, no matter how much it hurt. However, seeing them together as a couple in love was so difficult...and after what Hannah told me, I finally decided that I'd had enough. It was time to walk away..."

"Oh, no...wait a minute…" Angela was horrified. "Hannah told you that? But Booth wouldn't have handled it that way, Bren...he'd want to talk to you himself…"

"I know that now, but Hannah apparently lied to Booth as well, telling him that I was the one who wanted to sever our partnership and our friendship but that I was unsure of how to tell him, and he believed her, I suppose, because he knows I'm quite socially awkward at times. He told me recently that the idea that I didn't want to work with him hurt him deeply, as did my refusal to continue our friendship, but he'd decided to accept my choice because he thought that was what I wanted." Brennan tried to blink back her tears, but they spilled down her cheeks. "Each of us spent all that time apart thinking that the other one didn't care anymore, when, in actuality, we each cared enough about our relationship to comply with what we believed the other one wanted."

"Is that why you took your sabbatical when you did? I always thought the timing of your year off was weird, especially since you'd just gotten back from a dig. That sneaky little bitch! I knew she was up to no good the minute I laid eyes on her…" An indignant Angela scowled as she jammed her spoon into her mug. "So basically she broke up your work partnership because she was jealous of your friendship with Booth, and then she ended her engagement with Booth a few months later just for the hell of it? Of all the selfish, low down, mean spirited, nasty things to do...is that why Booth took this job? Because she left him? I should've kicked her bony ass outta town when I had the chance..."

Brennan shook her head as she continued. "He said that his decision to take on this project had nothing to do with Hannah's leaving him, but I'm not convinced that was entirely the case. I would imagine, given how much he cared for her and considering the religious emphasis he places on marriage, that he felt quite hopeless for several weeks after the abrupt ending of their engagement, especially since it's his belief that she'd left him for someone else. He would've been desperate for any sort of change in scenery, so when Colonel Randall called, he probably jumped at the chance to leave DC for an extended period of time. I feel sure that if we'd still been partners, I would've been able to convince him not to take on this project. I know it isn't rational, Angela, but I blame Hannah for Booth's taking on this mission, and if he gets injured because if it...I will find it very difficult to forgive her." Brennan brushed away her tears as she gently rocked Michael-Vincent in her arms. "I know I can't do anything to change the past, but I often wish things had been different that night in front of the Hoover…that I had given a relationship with Booth a chance when he originally asked me to...maybe all of this trouble could've been avoided..." Brushing more tears away, Brennan sniffled slightly. "I know it's not logical to be upset. There's nothing we can do about it now…"

"You know what, Sweetie?" Angela set her mug on the table next to her chair and reached over to pat her friend's knee, trying to comfort her. "You're right. We can't change the past. All we can do is live in the present and hope for the future, right? And at the present time, you and Booth are finally on the same page, in a loving relationship, even if he isn't home right now, and I know you'll have a wonderful future together when he does get back home." She smiled gently as she took her son from Brennan. "Who knows? You may even end up with one or two of these…"

They both laughed as Michael-Vincent responded to his mother's hopes with a noisy hiccup and a tiny cry. "And don't tell me I can't know what's going to happen in the future. I've always known that you two were made for each other...it's been obvious from the beginning. It's gonna happen, okay? So no more sad talk, alright? We're going to be positive about this situation, even if it kills us."

Knowing it wouldn't do any good to argue the finer points of logic with her best friend, Brennan finally offered a small smile in agreement. "You're correct, Angela. We should think positively." Rising from her seat, she picked up the soup mug and carried it back to the kitchen, pausing to look out the kitchen window as she rinsed it out and put it in the dishwasher. At that moment, all she was positive about was how much she missed the man she loved. "Hurry home, Booth, wherever you are…"

Oooooooooo

Booth smiled with satisfaction as he glanced around his quarters the next morning. Rami's duffle bag and backpack were both squared away, ready to be taken to the base hospital in anticipation of the master sergeant's transfer to the hospital at Ramstein for further treatment. Booth's bloodied clothing had been dropped off to the quartermaster's hut for a proper disposal, and the truck had been dragged back to the motor pool. He read over the action report he'd filled out on his laptop to make sure it was complete before emailing a copy to Colonel Randall, Major Tomacek, and Major Evans. Feeling like a burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders, he sighed softly, hoping it wouldn't be long until he was on his way home, possibly within the next day or two if he could get transportation arranged in time. If he was lucky, he'd arrive back in DC by the end of the week, well ahead of schedule. He chuckled to himself as he thought about how much fun it would be to surprise his Bones when he showed up unannounced at her apartment with a bottle of champagne and maybe, if he was feeling brave, an engagement ring. The champagne was a given, but the engagement ring was another matter. _Maybe I could call it something else...maybe an 'I love you' ring? Maybe it'll be her Christmas gift..._

Booth knew that his Bones loved him, and that she was committed to being with him, but he also remembered her long rants about how marriage was an archaic custom intended to subjugate women, and he was in no hurry to hear another lecture on the subject. _Maybe I'll wait on the engagement ring...I need to go slow on that idea...I don't want to scare her off again..._ Sighing softly, Booth nodded as he closed down his laptop. He'd learned that lesson the hard way one awful night in front of the Hoover. Nothing good would come from rushing her into making a decision about making their relationship permanent. He'd have to wait patiently for her to decide what she wanted, and he was ready to wait years if necessary. As long as she loved him, it didn't matter if it was one year, five years, or even fifty years. Nothing else mattered as long as they were together.

He checked his watch, nodding to himself as he picked up Rami's gear. Time to go over and check on his friend. Booth had often mused about how serving together made people develop a camaraderie out of necessity, but he knew that if he'd met Akram Smith under different circumstances, they still would've become good friends. Rami was an honest man, brave, and loyal to his country. _Too bad we can't get him to join the FBI as a forensic accountant, but I bet he's happy having his own business back in Abilene, doing taxes for other people on his own terms. He also gets to go safely home to his family every night._ Shouldering his spotter's duffle bag and picking up the smaller backpack, Booth set out for the base hospital.

Oooooooooo

Booth stood in the doorway of Rami's room, fidgeting slightly as Captain Klein examined his irritable patient. "Whaddya think, Captain?", Booth asked as he watched Rami squirm restlessly in the hospital bed. "Is Smith good to go?"

Pursing his lips slightly, the doctor nodded toward his charge. "I want to keep him one more day to make sure he's stabilized, but I think we're going to send him out early tomorrow morning. There's a troop transport flight leaving around 0700 tomorrow, and they've got room for him. We can easily wheel his bed right onto the plane, so that's no problem. I've got a couple of medics going home via Ramstein, so they'll keep an eye on him during the flight, and then he'll be admitted to the base hospital when he gets there." Patting Rami on his good shoulder, Captain Klein smiled. "He's listed as SI, so he needs to stay quiet for now, Sergeant Major Booth. No chasing the nurses down the hall, okay? Not even in a wheelchair."

"Yeah, I'll make sure he behaves himself, Captain. Thanks." Booth offered a quick salute as the doctor left the room before turning back to his friend. "Hey, buddy...how ya feelin'?"

"Godammit…", Rami groaned softly as he tried to shrug his left shoulder. "...I feel like hammered shit, but the good news is, I guess, that I can actually feel something in my arm. The doc said he was kinda worried about whether or not I had some bad nerve damage in there, but he thinks maybe since I'm in so much goddamn pain it's a good indicator that the nerves are mostly intact. I think he's just fucking with my mind, telling me that hurting like hell is a good thing, but he did give me something to take the edge off, so I'll probably feel better in a few minutes." Grimacing in pain, Rami shifted in the bed so he could get a better look at Booth. "Wanna see?" As Booth nodded, Rami pulled the sheet out of the way to show his partner Captain Klein's handiwork. "They've got my upper arm strapped down to my side, see? And my lower arm is bound so it crosses up over my chest, and I can't move it at all. Captain Klein said he tried to reposition the all the broken parts of the humerus, but it was too hard to do because the bullet splintered the bone into so many fragments. Doc said it was like working a fucking jigsaw puzzle with a bunch of tiny pieces, so he decided to temporarily immobilize it instead. I guess the bone jockeys in Ramstein will have to take care of putting it back like it's s'posed to be. He says it's gonna be at least one major fucking surgery to put my upper arm back together...with all the screws and plates I'm gonna have in my arm, he says I'll be able to set off an airport's metal detectors like it's the Fourth of July."

"Man, I'm sorry…", Booth began, sighing heavily as he pulled up a chair. "I guess I should've done more to take out those bastards who were chasing us..."

Rolling his eyes in frustration, the spotter shook his head. "Listen, this is not your fault, okay, Booth? I shoulda known better than to have my arm hanging out of the window, especially when I saw those guys coming up behind us." Rami glared at his partner in annoyance. "So enough of that 'I'm sorry' shit. I knew going into this project that there was a chance of getting hurt or even killed, and I took the job anyway, alright? I made the choice. This is none of your doing." Exhaling slowly, Rami fidgeted with the hem of his bed sheet, avoiding eye contact with his partner. "The doctor said you did a lot of work to keep me alive, Booth. He said you're the reason I still have an arm at all…that you kept me from bleeding out...kept me from going into shock...and I want you to know how grateful I am for that..."

"Nah. It was nothin'. I was just repaying you for saving my ass earlier in the day, you know?" Booth tried to wave off his friend's thanks. "It was just simple first aid anyway, you know...elevate the feet...put pressure on the wound...stuff like that. I tell you what, though...you told me some real interesting stuff while we were driving back here. You were so loopy, it was like you were stoned, dude. You were talking about stuff that happened at basic…about saran wrap on the urinals and vaseline on toilet seats...jello in boots..."

"No way, Sarge. Now you're fucking with my mind, too." Sergeant Smith grinned broadly when he realized Booth was teasing him. "Anyway, our job here is done, and we'll be home soon, right? Although I gotta make a pitstop first." A pained expression flitted across Rami's face. "Hey, has anyone called my wife to tell her about me getting shot up?"

Booth nodded as he tried to ease Rami's mind. "Major Evans told me last night he was gonna take care of it. I'm supposed to see him later this morning, so I'll remind him, just in case it slipped his mind. He said he thought the Army would be able to get Ziza some Invitational Travel Orders so she can be in Ramstein when you have your surgery…"

Grimacing slightly, Rami was pensive, considering what Booth had said. "Maybe, although that might be a lot more trouble than it's worth. I hope I don't have to stay at Ramstein very long, but it sounds like it's gonna be a real complicated process to fix up my arm, Booth. The doc says I'll have a couple of surgeries as soon as possible after I arrive in Germany, and then as soon as I can travel again, they'll ship me out to Walter Reed. Depending on how things go, I might even need another surgery at Reed before I begin my rehab. It kind of makes more sense for her to fly to DC and stay at the Fisher House instead…" Rami paused and rubbed his eyes, hoping to hide his tears. "I think that would be easier with the kids, too. It's gonna be rough on her either way. I mean, I guess my mother can keep the kids for a few weeks if Ziza decides to meet me in Germany, but Mom's getting up there in years...I mean, she loves being a grandma, but she may not feel like chasing three little kids around, especially with the baby just learning to walk..."

"Don't worry about it, Rami. I'm sure the Casualty Information Officer will help Ziza work things out about what to do with the kids while you're in Germany, and then when you get transferred stateside, I'll check on her and the kids while they're at Fisher House in DC. I live in the area, okay? I mean, I have a tiny apartment, so she couldn't actually stay there, but maybe Bones and I can take the kids for a few hours every so often and give her a break, you know?" Booth shrugged nonchalantly. "It's gonna be okay. You guys will make it through this just fine, and pretty soon you'll be good as new...back to figuring out how much people owe in taxes."

"I can't ask you to do that, Booth…to look after my family like that." Giving his friend a stern look, Rami shook his head resolutely. "You're gonna need to get reacquainted with your girlfriend and your kid, and you'll need to go back to work. You won't have time to mess with all my family's shit..."

"You don't have to ask me to do something for you and your family, Master Sergeant Smith. Anyway, it's not like you have a choice. You're gonna accept some help from me, and that's a direct order. That's what friends are for, right? Me and Bones will be there for you, along with some of the people we work with." Booth grinned as Rami glowered at him. "Hey, don't forget. I'm still your superior officer, so you gotta do what I say."

"And you're still trying to pull rank on me, right? You're a hard headed son of a bitch, ain't ya?" Rami returned his friend's grin. "Thanks, man. I owe you one. I'd shake hands, but you know...I don't wanna risk hurting my good arm...what, with all those big muscles you got..."

"Nope, you don't owe me anything. Like I said, I think we're pretty much even now since you saved my life yesterday morning." Booth rose from his chair and pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "Hey, I brought your stuff from the barracks, and I stacked it over there in the corner. Do you want me to get your laptop out for you? You wanna send your wife an email?"

Yawning widely, Rami shook his head. "Nah, I'll do that later. I'm pretty groggy from the pain meds. I think I'm gonna take a nap. Sorry I'm not very good company right now…no offense, man..."

"Don't worry about it. You just get some rest. Hey, don't forget, you've got my cell phone number. Have Ziza call me when she gets to DC, okay? We can work out what she wants to do then. It'll be no trouble. Anyway, I bet my kid would love to play with your boys." After making sure Rami's heirloom knife was safely stowed in the bottom of his backpack, Booth turned and saluted before extending his hand to his friend. "It's been an honor to serve with you, Master Sergeant Smith. Safe travels, okay?"

"The honor was mine, Sergeant Major Booth. You have my family's thanks for your service as well." Shaking Booth's hand, Rami's smile turned into a yawn. "Safe travels to you, too, pal. I'll talk to you in a couple of weeks, okay?"

"You got it. Make sure Ziza calls me, okay? Take care, buddy, and good luck." Booth waved as he quickly left the room, not wanting his partner to see how emotional he was. Akram Smith was a very good man, and Booth was proud to be his friend.

Oooooooooo

It was just before 11 o'clock as Booth made his way to Major Evans' office. After checking with the receptionist, he knocked on the major's door and saluted, standing at attention as he waited to be recognized. "Sergeant Major Seeley Booth, reporting as ordered for my debriefing, sir…"

Seemingly reoccupied with some papers stacked on his desk, the major glanced toward the door and gave Booth a cursory salute. "At. ease. Come on in, Booth, and have a seat. I'll be right with you." Evans signed a few more pages before putting the papers into a file folder and pushing it aside. Pressing his fingertips together, he studied Booth carefully before he continued. "I read your action report, Sergeant Major. It seems things went down as we'd planned for the most part…although I must say, I am rather concerned about the time you spent with Smith's cousin, Achmed. It looks bad, cozying up with him like that, you know? And you boys stayed at his place,right? That was risky. He seems to be a shady character...almost a mercenary or possibly a terrorist. The intel guys at Command aren't sure which side he's on, and they're worried he's going to use what he learned from you two against our boys stationed here at Bagram. They're not too happy about that...you might have to answer a lot of questions that decision, Booth. It might even lead to a written reprimand..."

"Well, I guess we could've slept in the truck, but we didn't want to call attention to ourselves that way. I know accepting Achmed's hospitality was not normal mission protocol, but it made sense at the time, given the situation in that little town. We were undercover, right? We needed to blend into the scenery, and that was the best way to do it." Surprised that Evans knew Achmed was Rami's cousin, Booth paused for a few seconds before responding. "Anyway, I don't understand why you're so concerned about Achmed, sir. After all, you gave us the man's name at our mission briefing...you're the one who said he was our contact, and you provided us with the recognition code. That's why we went to see him, okay? It's not like we went out of our way to find some random guy to help us. Besides, when it comes to projects such as these, I'm normally given a lot of leeway about using whatever means I have at my disposal to get the job done, so if that means we use intel from one of the locals, that's what we do." Leaning forward in his chair, Booth gazed intently at the major. "Just so you know, sir, the brass running the show...the guys up at the top of the chain of command...they believe that I know what I'm doing...that I'm an experienced professional...and they trust my judgment about shit like this..."

Fidgeting with his pen nervously, Evans squirmed slightly under Booth's angry glare, avoiding eye contact as he pretended to read through another file. "Well, let's hope the situation doesn't come back to bite us on the ass. Those Afghan bastards can be really sneaky, you know? After all, they're not known for their loyalty…from what I've heard, they'd just love to stab some American GI in the back for no good reason...you know, the whole 'kill the infidel' bull shit. I'm surprised you actually trusted Smith to be your spotter. He's one of them, you know...he'd just as soon slit your throat as be your friend... "

 _This is weird...yesterday he was worried about Rami being wounded so bad...today he thinks the guy's a terrorist._ Unsure of what had caused the sudden change in Evans' demeanor, Booth shook his head as he spoke quietly, choosing his words carefully. "Master Sergeant Smith isn't 'one of them', sir. He's an American citizen, and he's a brave, loyal special ops soldier. He saved my life, and I have no doubt he'd do that again if I ever needed it. He willingly put himself in danger to serve his country, and he deserves the utmost respect of his commanding officer. He's earned it. In fact, based on the way he handled himself during this operation, I'd like you to recommend him for a Bronze Star."

Evans scoffed as he reached for his coffee cup. "Oh yeah...I can just hear em at the Pentagon when they read my report on that shit. You want me to recommend some Afghan half breed for a major award for valor? Not gonna happen on my watch, Booth. Everyone knows they ain't trustworthy…"

"It's just like dealing with us Americans, you know? Some of us aren't good guys, either, right?" Disgusted with the major's bigotry, Booth sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he glowered at his commanding officer. "Look, we took out the target as requested, Major Evans, with Achmed's help. The reconnaissance information he gave us was invaluable. He knew the layout the target's house and which outdoor courtyard the man was using. He gave us an idea of the number of armed personnel on the grounds, and he also suggested the best way to approach the compound without being seen. He gave us provisions and a place to stay the night before we undertook the project, which kept us from calling attention to ourselves by limiting our interaction with the locals. After meeting the man, I'd say there's no reason to consider him a hostile. He seems completely honest, just like Smith. You can't decide a guy's not trustworthy just because of where he's from..."

"Hmm...well, we'll see." Major Evans was unconvinced. "I hope you're correct about those two fellas. It's not hard to imagine a former member of the Afghan mujahideen trying to cause some mischief here on the base. He was a part of the resistance against the Russians...an expert in guerrilla warfare..."

"I doubt that would happen, sir. Achmed was on our side...he was glad we were there to take out Ghilzai, which is why he assisted us. Overall, except for Sergeant Smith getting wounded, we were successful in completing our project, and I don't imagine there will be any repercussions from the locals." Unsettled by the major's complaints, Booth cleared his throat softly. "I understand your concerns, sir, and I know I may have to explain my decisions to someone higher up. That's just part of the sniper's job, okay? The brass will contact me if they want to talk to me about it." Booth cleared his throat as he settled back in his chair. "So, if there's nothing else we need to discuss about the mission, I'm ready to make arrangements for my trip home, Major Evans…"

"I'm afraid that's not possible at this time, Sergeant Major." A man sauntered into the major's office. He wore a nasty smile as he stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. "You've still got a job to do for me before you go home, Booth, whether you like it or not...no use trying to get out of it..."

Springing quickly his chair, Booth's voice was a low growl as he glared menacingly at the intruder. Shaking in rage as he drew himself up to his full height, he took a step toward the unwelcome visitor. "John Green...you goddamn dirty motherfucker! I've already told you...I'm not doing any sort of job for you ever again. Get the hell out of my way...and get out of my life…NOW!"

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated. More soon...**_

 _ **Laura.**_


	17. Chapter 17

**_A/N: Thanks for the reviews and kind words as my story continues. If you have time to review this chapter, I'd appreciate it._**

 ** _Please note: John Green is over the top...but as Booth notes, the guy is crazy..._**

* * *

John Green wore a nasty sneer as he sauntered into Major Evans' office, thoroughly enjoying his ability to frustrate the angry man in front of him. "Golly, Booth...if I didn't know better, I'd think you weren't happy to see me. Here we've been friends all these years, but now it seems that you don't care about me anymore. Is our friendship is over?" Laughing sarcastically, Green pretended to pout as he blocked the doorway. "It hurts to know that you don't love me anymore…that you'd rather see me dead. So tell me...is that any way to treat an old friend?"

"Yeah, well, get used to it, you sorry son of a bitch.", Booth snarled. "We were never friends, and I ain't getting shot dead in some godforsaken shithole for the likes of you." Booth squared his shoulders as he glared at the visitor. "Move the hell out of my way, John, and maybe you won't get hurt. I need to get ready to head back to the States." Taking a step towards the door, Booth paused slightly as he realized the man wasn't going to let him pass without a fight. Smiling faintly as he pounded his right fist into his open left hand, he shrugged as he stood nose to nose with Green, who seemed unimpressed with the angry display of machismo. "Okay, I see how it's gonna be, mother fucker. So don't move. That's fine with me. I don't mind taking things into my own hands. I've been looking forward to kicking your goddamn ass for a long time..."

"At ease, Sergeant Major. Stand down...have a seat." Major Evans crossed his arms over his chest as he sat back in his chair, grim as the dumbfounded sniper turned toward him in surprise. "That's an order, soldier. You haven't been officially separated from the Army yet. That means you're still under my command."

"No fucking way…", Booth began as he turned to the officer. "You're gonna take this bastard's side against me?"

Wearing a wry smile, Green raised an eyebrow at the furious man in front of him. "See? You're just pissin' in the wind when you argue with me, okay? Might as well sit down and relax, Seeley. We've got a lot to discuss...like the upcoming mission you're gonna do for me." Brushing past Booth, the man pulled a chair up to Major Evans' desk and made himself comfortable before pointing to the empty chair next to him. "C'mon, Booth. No reason to be so stubborn…you gotta know you're gonna lose this battle. I've got all sorts of unpleasant methods to get what I want, so why not make things easy on yourself? Why not cooperate?"

Standing with his hands on his hips, Booth scowled as he shook his head. "I got nothing to say to you, Green, and there's nothing you could say to me that's gonna change anything. I'm leaving this roach hotel as soon as I can, and you can't change my mind."

"I'm afraid that's not true." Green chuckled at Booth's threatening glare. "I mean, I can't change your mind about wanting to leave, but I can certainly make you stay, whether you're willing to do so or not. You see, you've been seconded by an entity that serves the US government. The CIA needs access to your unique talents, and you're not going anywhere near the States until you've completed your new mission. You've been temporarily reassigned to me to take care of a project in Pakistan." Green smoothed his black knit shirt, patting the pistol in his waistband as he snickered softly. "Basically, I've borrowed you from the Army...kind of like borrowing a library book, only I get to keep you for as long as I need to, without any late fees."

Slowly slumping onto the chair next to Green, Booth was appalled. "What? No way! Look, I already told you I wasn't interested in taking on any more sniper missions for the CIA. Those jobs are way too dangerous, and I got a kid at home to think about, okay? Anyway, I know my rights, you sorry bastard. I'm here on a contract basis with the Army as an independent operator. You can't make me go on that mission if I decline, and I most definitely decline to take on any sort of job for you. You should've called Broadsky in the first place, like I suggested the last time we talked. So I'm catching the next flight outta here..."

"You're right, I suppose. I can't really force you to do the job." Green hummed a little tune, studying his fingernails nonchalantly for a few seconds. Sitting back in his seat, he shrugged slightly as he grinned at Booth. "However, I can strongly encourage you to volunteer. You see, there are a lot of nasty things that can happen to people you know if you decide not to take on this project for your government. It seems you've forgotten just how resourceful I can be, Seeley. Remember what happened to your pals Bautista and Kendall? Prime examples of my point. You should know by now...I've got no morals or scruples when it comes to getting what I want. You should also realize that I'll do whatever it takes to get the job done, no matter who gets hurt. As long as I get the leverage I need, I don't give a fuck about any collateral damage that may occur. That's what makes my job so much fun...I get to do whatever I want in order to win."

 _Jesus...I haven't thought about those guys in years..._ Booth tried to remain stoic, but an involuntary shudder ran down his spine as he remembered the two men he had served with during the Desert Storm campaign. Both men had been world class snipers, trained by Jake Broadsky, just like he was, and they were at the CIA's disposal if there was work to be done, but after several dangerous missions in the most remote parts of the world, both had refused to take on any more 'special' jobs for Green or the Company he worked for.

Unfortunately, it seemed both of Booth's friends had paid a heavy price for their refusal to participate in the agent's schemes, although it was never proven that the operative had actually been involved in either tragedy. Jorge Bautista's wife and young daughter had died in a house fire of suspicious origin, and Doug Kendall's fiancee had died from an 'accidental' overdose of painkillers after what should've been a routine knee surgery.

Neither man could get over what had happened to their loved ones, and both of them had ended up dead themselves not long afterwards.

After losing his house and his family to the flames, Jorge seemed to lose his will to live, taking refuge in alcohol, hoping to dull his searing pain as he slowly drank himself to death over the next couple of years. ' _Jorge was a good guy…',_ Booth thought. _'He didn't deserve that…but he could never quite get back on the wagon…no way that fire was caused by faulty wiring…'_

And Doug...Doug had rammed his speeding truck into a concrete bridge abutment one night while being stoned out of his mind on methamphetamines. Coincidentally, the fatal crash had occurred on the date originally chosen for the couple's wedding. ' _Yeah...that was no coincidence…',_ Booth realized as he watched Green warily. _'That was John's sick sense of humor…I wonder if he provided the meth to Doug...maybe it was laced with something else…'_

Sighing softly, Booth closed his eyes in anguish as he realized what Green was telling him. The bastard had basically admitted to being responsible for the deaths of at least five people just because he didn't get what he wanted, and he didn't give a fuck who knew it. John Green felt invincible, daring Booth to refuse his request. Taking a deep breath, the sniper shook his head as he looked the man in the eyes. "You don't scare me, John…"

"I don't? Well, you should be scared...very scared, Seeley...because, you see, I know your weaknesses, too, just like I knew about the tipping points for Bautista and Kendall. See, you Rangers are all alike. You're loyal, smart, and brave, and you do whatever it takes to protect people. To top it off, Booth, you actually care about those people, too." Green sighed as he shook his head. "You're a 'good' man, and that sort of 'goodness' can put you at risk if someone needs something from you...something you don't want to give. Because you care so much, it means I have a lot of ammunition to work with, Seeley. It gives me a definite advantage..."

Smirking at Booth's discomfort, John pulled some papers from his jacket pocket, unfolded them, and spread them out on the desk, pressing out the creases before choosing one. "It appears you have an interesting dossier. Let's see here...oh yes...let's start with your new little buddy, Master Sergeant Akram Smith. His mother, Asmaan Smith, is an Afghan national, right? It says here that the fellas at the immigration department suspect she married her American husband merely to gain entry into our country, wanting to create as much havoc as possible once she got here. Her father used to be a prominent man in his community until he was murdered by some minor warlord, but you know all about that, right? That's the guy you popped, isn't it?" He winked at Booth before turning back to the page. "Because of Sergeant Smith's family ties to Afghanistan, I'm afraid we're going to have to detain him for questioning. After all, that sort of Islamic terrorist indoctrination starts in the home. It's also possible that Smith is a collaborator with the Taliban, working against the best interests of our country. This man's record has come under intense scrutiny, and he is considered to be a high level threat, especially considering the relationship he's maintained over the years with his cousin Achmed, who was at one time a member of the mujahideen. Achmed could have vital intelligence about the Taliban's involvement with terrorism in the area...intelligence that he's shared with Smith, hoping that it can be used against our interests. In fact, Smith might even be a member of some radical group himself...maybe he and Achmed are working with the rest of their relatives here and abroad to plan a terrorist attack against this base as well as on several targets in the States..."

"He's got nothing to do with this shit between us, John…", Booth interrupted angrily. "He's served his country the right way on several projects. Trust me...he's one of the good guys. His assistance was invaluable on the job we just completed. No way anyone would believe he's a traitor… or his mom, either. She's a naturalized citizen...she's lived in the States for years..."

Chuckling as he glanced at Booth, Green held up his hand to interrupt. "I'm afraid I'm not satisfied with your opinion on those matters, Booth. I mean, you've only known the guy for what...three weeks? That's hardly enough time for you to figure out if a guy is a terrorist. No, based on the recommendation of Major Evans, I think we'll have to send Smith to Guantanamo for further interrogation. He may be there for several months...maybe a year or possibly more if he refuses to cooperate. Too bad...it looks like the surgery on his arm will have to wait for quite a while. I hope he doesn't lose the use of that arm because of the delay."

Green turned to the next piece of paper. "My sources also tell me that Smith's mother runs an underground website recruiting Muslim extremists from all over the world to take part of terrorist activities against the United States. Can you imagine? A little old lady like that inciting crazy guys while she sits at her kitchen table, pecking away on her laptop. I'm sure she'll have to be detained..that is, if we can get her safely out of her house. I'm sure there are several folks who love their country in Abilene,Texas...folks who'd just love to shoot a suspected spy in order to protect their country. All I'd have to do is plant the idea among some gun toting, flag waving, hyper-patriotic types, right? You know how they feel about those 'damn Middle Eastern folks' in a small town like that…they want to rid themselves of those goddamn 'heathens', especially if they think good ol' Uncle Sam is backing them up..."

"So you'd seriously threaten his mother's life?" Booth was horrified. "A woman in her sixties? I can't believe it…not even from you...she has nothing to do with any terrorism threat. Anyway, that sort of crime is the FBI's jurisdiction...she lives in the US..."

"Do you think I'm gonna let a little thing like jurisdiction get in the way?" Green laughed out loud. "That's rich, Booth. Listen, the Company can pick up whoever it wants, and then we'll let the lawyers work out who's in charge of the case, but that'll take time...possibly years. In the meantime we pick up someone else to question about Smith's activities...his wife...one of his brothers...it doesn't matter to me. Maybe we'll detain his Iranian wife for questioning as she tries to get on the plane to Germany…and then may no one ever hears from her again. Maybe we stash her away somewhere out of the way. I'm CIA, you know? According to the Patriot Act, the Company has a lot of leeway about how it treats suspected spies and terrorists. We can handle things however we want as long as we get the job done. I mean, sure, if someone knows Smith's family is being held somewhere, I guess they could sue to make sure the laws are being followed...but they'd have to be found first." John shrugged, unconcerned about Booth's disgust. "I really don't care what happens to them, you know, and neither will Smith, because he'll be locked away in a dark cell in Gitmo...just trying to survive…"

"You dirty bastard.", Booth growled. "I can't believe you'd hurt those innocent people just to get what you want from me..."

"Oh, believe it. I would definitely do that. Desperate times call for desperate measures." Green picked up another piece of paper. "Now, let's talk about your grandfather…"

"You leave Pops out of this, you piece of shit…" Booth slammed his fist on Major Evans' desk as he leaned menacingly toward the operative. "You leave him alone…he's an old man, dammit. He's done nothing to you..."

Oh, I'm just looking out for him, okay? I hope nothing bad happens to him in that retirement community...I hope he doesn't have an unfortunate fall or something. Recovery from a broken hip can take a long time...if he recovers at all, especially with that bad ticker of his. Old age can make things hard on a fella, you know...he might be in the hospital for a long time, and that's expensive." Wearing a feral smile, Green raised an eyebrow as he read over the page. "You were right, Booth. I am a nasty mother fucker. I'll do anything to get your help. I can have my 'co-worker' at the Pentagon foul up Hank's service records...maybe even get Hank's veteran benefits stopped, at least for awhile. He might get Medicare to pay for some of his medical bills if he were injured, but with no money from the VA, he'll be in dire straits financially. He might even end up not having a place to live. Do you have any idea how many homeless vets there are? And since your brother is such a loser, Seeley, Hank will have nowhere to turn..."

Booth's knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of his chair. "You fucking son of a bitch...Pops deserves those benefits. He served his country in Korea and got an honorable discharge. Would you seriously throw him out on the street?"

"Yeah, I would, and you won't be there to help the poor old fella sort out all that Pentagon red tape…" Green sat back and pretended to read the next piece of paper in his hand. "...because there's the little matter of you being listed as missing in action and presumed killed. I hope Hank won't take it too hard, you being his favorite grandson and all..."

"Missing in action? What the hell are you talking about, mother fucker?" Thoroughly enraged, Booth tried to grab the paper from the man's hand, but Green pulled it away with a flourish.

Booth sat back in his chair and eyed Green defiantly. "You're too late, John. I've already filled out the action report about the project to take out Ghilzai...it has today's date on it, and I've already sent it in via email. Colonel Randall and Major Tomacek both got a copy, and Major Evans has a copy sitting in his inbox right now...he just told me he read it this morning. Nobody's gonna believe I'm missing in action..."

Green laughed at the bravado of the man sitting next to him. "Oh, Booth...you know, for a smart guy, you can be so dense sometimes. I'm CIA, remember? A covert operative. Don't you realize that I can block your email messages anytime I want? All I had to do is ask my friend at the Pentagon to suspend your military email account...you know, because of all those naughty messages you've been getting from your girlfriend. No one has received your precious action report, right, Major Evans?" Seeing Evans avert his eyes as he nodded in agreement, Green laughed out loud. "In fact, it may be that no one will ever hear from you again." Green tapped his fingers on the desk, muttering to himself as he scanned the sheet of paper in front of him. "It says here that your mission to assassinate the warlord was a success...that the kill was confirmed by the Afghan government...but for some reason, you didn't return to Bagram afterwards as expected. Sergeant Smith will be safely tucked away at Gitmo, so he'll be no help in determining what actually happened to you. Who knows? Maybe Smith's cousin Achmed stabbed you in the back simply because you're an American, right? Anyway, with no remains to be found, you'll be declared MIA and PK. Of course, that means any survivors' benefits your son Parker might receive will likely be tied up for years, and, thanks to my intervention, any claim he might have or that his mother might wish to make on his behalf will be lost in bureaucratic limbo. Not only will he wonder for the rest of his life what happened to you while you were on a 'training mission', but he'll also never receive a dime from the government. I hope he has money stashed away for college, because there won't be any survivors' benefits for that poor little kid."

Licking his lips, Green sat back in his chair and grinned at Booth. "And just think about poor Dr. Brennan...she'll never know what happened to you, either. She'll think you've died, or that maybe that you've abandoned her, and all the while you'll be rotting away in a secret CIA holding camp…or maybe, if I'm feeling charitable, I'll find a nice federal penitentiary for you...one that has a window in their solitary confinement cell." Green arched his eyebrow at Booth and laughed out loud. "Temperance loves you for some reason, so she's gonna be heartbroken, you know? It's a good thing I'll be there to help her pick up the pieces of her broken heart, although she knows me as Rick Carothers instead of John Green. Did you know we went out a few times while you were busy fucking that cute blonde reporter? I gotta say, Booth...I can't believe you threw Tempe aside for someone else. She is so very hot, you know, and we had a helluva good time in bed...and on the couch...and in the shower...and on the kitchen floor. What she can do with that mouth on a man's skin...wow! She is so talented, isn't she? Those long legs of hers wrapped around my neck had me going at it strong...all night long. And Jesus, her boobs are magnificent, aren't they? I loved getting my hands on them...that soft creamy skin and those pretty pink nipples just waiting to be kissed." Scrunching up his face as he pretended to be in pain, Green shifted in his chair. "Of course, after being with you, she may not want me anymore, right? In fact, knowing her, if you're not around, she'd just as soon be alone for the rest of her life, although I suppose she could go crawling back to that slimy FBI director. What was his name? Oh yes...Hacker." Green cackled at Booth's disgusted scoff. "Nah, you're right. She'd probably rather be lonely. I just hope no one breaks into the lab while she's there by all herself and harms her somehow, since you won't be there to protect her. She'll be so vulnerable…she'll be concentrating on her work, and she won't hear someone creep up behind her...and slit that pretty throat..."

Trembling with rage, Booth clenched his jaw. "Don't you dare hurt her...don't even go near her..." Even though Booth knew that John was trying to use psychology on him...that Green was trying to make him doubt Brennan so he'd be upset enough to take on the job...he still couldn't control the momentary stab of pain that went through him as he heard what Green had to say about being with his girlfriend. "Enough, goddammit. Don't talk about Bones like she's some worthless whore. She's too good for you, you bastard. You just leave her out of this, John. This is between you and me." _She wouldn't have anything to do with this mother fucker, right? But she's a grown woman, and she could do what she wanted with him, or anybody else, and I wouldn't have known anything about it. I was too busy with Hannah at the time...I let Bones down again…maybe she would rather have someone else…_

Stung by the implication that his girlfriend might have slept with the horrible man sitting next to him, Booth sighed heavily as he looked across the desk at his commanding officer. "Are you really gonna let this douchebag get away with this crime, Major Evans? He's trying to shanghai me! I'm enlisted in the Army, and the CIA is trying to hold me hostage…trying to make me take on a mission against my will..."

Suddenly, as he saw the look of shame on his commanding officer's face, Booth knew what had happened. "I see what's going on. Holy shit...you set me up, didn't you, Major? That's how Green knew where I was...you told him I was here...all this time, you've been laying a trap for me...goddamn traitor… Is Green blackmailing you?"

Green waved his hand toward the major. "Don't be too hard on him, Booth. It's not his fault he's been a rat. He owes me a huge favor, that's all. I'm gonna bail his ass out so he doesn't end up in the stockade." Rick shook his head as if to pity the commanding officer. "It seems Major Evans has enough demons of his own to deal with, Booth, so I'm sure he doesn't give a flying fuck about what happens to you. That's why he's helping me out by allowing us to have this little meeting in his office." Nodding at the nervous man across the desk from him, Green smirked at Booth. "He likes to look at pictures of naked little boys...the kind where they pose 'just so'. Too bad he used the Army's server to access his kiddie porn so he could enjoy it in the privacy of his office. It was a really stupid thing to do, wasn't it, Major? Was it worth it to get yourself off like that? Those dirty pictures are going to haunt you for the rest of your life, dude..."

Cringing in disgust, the sergeant major shook his head as he avoided eye contact with Major Evans. Knowing he was backed into a corner, Booth glared at Green as he silently weighed his options. _Goddammit...this is a helluva bad spot...Green is not only dangerous...he's way off the reservation...he's so messed up...a fucking crazy son of a bitch...The best thing to do now is to play along with the bastard...make him think he's won. I'll figure out how to renege on the deal later. I gotta get away from this guy before I kill him._ Obviously furious at the man sitting next to him, the sniper spoke quietly. "Okay, I get it. You can totally fuck up my life and the lives of people I care about if I don't cooperate with the CIA." Sighing softly, he looked up at the ceiling. "What is it you want me to do, John?"

"I knew you'd be smart enough to see it my way, Booth. I've always admired that about you...you're practical." The CIA agent folded the pages and slipped them back into his pocket before sitting back in his chair. Folding his hands in his lap, Green wore an artificial smile. "I told my boss that all I had to do was to convince you that I was right...that you'd bust your ass to serve your country because you're such a patriotic American. Thank you for volunteering your services."

"Cut the shit, John. I don't give a rat's ass about that right now. I just want your word that Smith gets to go home safely, that Pops will be okay, and that Parker gets what's comin' to him if I'm not successful." Booth ran his hand across his chin, trying to hide his distress. "And if I don't make it, someone has to tell Bones the truth...I don't want her to dwell on me, not knowing what happened. She needs to know if I'm gone…so she can move on with her life..."

"Of course. You know you can trust me, Booth. I'll take care of everything." Satisfied that he had Booth's cooperation, Green pulled a picture from his jacket pocket. "Recognize this guy?"

Booth studied the photograph for a minute before handing it to Major Evans. "Not really. Should I?"

"His American name is Thomas Grigsby, but in Pakistan he's known as Hazeen Orakzai." Green studied the picture for a minute before pretending to brush away a tear in mock sadness. "He's an American...a CIA agent working for us in the region, or at least he used to be. He's turned traitor. He had a mission of vital importance for our country's security, but he let us down because a love affair got in the way of doing his job. It's such a pity when that happens, isn't it?" Green raised his eyebrow at Booth. "Not that you'd know anything about that…."

"Wait...you want me to take out an American citizen? No way…" Booth bit his lip as he shook his head. "I'm not going to take out one of our own…"

"He's not one of our own anymore, Seeley. Like I said, he's a turncoat." Studying Booth for a few seconds, the CIA agent pursed his lips slightly as he continued. "What do you know about Darra Adam Khel?"

Booth eyed Green with both suspicion and concern. "It's a small city in the tribal areas of Pakistan. Their major industry is making knockoff weapons using stolen plans and illegally acquired technology. It's also one of the most dangerous cities in the world…"

"Exactly. I knew I could count on you to be up on things like that, Booth. Our man, Grigsby, was supposed to contact some of the illicit arms manufacturing organizations in that city, offering to sell information about a new and improved M16 and some other American weapons, trying to see if they'd bite, and if they did, he was supposed to give them bad intel on how to manufacture them. The rifles and handguns could then be made using the plans he had, but they wouldn't work correctly, ruining the seller's reputation, and therefore taking them down without an obvious fight…both the US and the Pakistani governments would win part of the war on terror without actually engaging the enemy. Simple and inexpensive..."

"Jesus, that's the stupidest goddamn thing I ever heard." Scoffing, Booth wore a sarcastic grin as he studied Green. "That fucked up plan has your name written all over it, John. If those guys are as good as making knockoffs as I think they are, they'd know the specs were bad just by giving them a quick once over. They probably already had the good specs for the weapons anyway, right?"

Glaring at Booth, the agent continued quietly. "Perhaps it wasn't the best plan, but the point of the project was to see who was making the fake American weapons in the first place so we could take those organizations and the weapons they make out of circulation. Grigsby was supposed to offer to sell the plans to the various organizations in the area to see who'd take him up on the opportunity, and he did a good job of doing just that, especially considering the circumstances. You're right when you say that Adam Khel is a dangerous place, especially for a foreigner. However, Grigsby is fluent in Punjabi, Urdu, and several local dialects, and he was able to convince the head of one of the major families in the area that he'd stolen the plans after he was fired by the CIA, and that he wanted to sell them to the highest bidder. The plan was going to work. It really was." Green shifted uncomfortably in his chair, knowing that Booth was right. The crazy scheme had been sketchy at best, and now he needed Booth to clean up the mess for him by taking out the operative. "Things were going well. Thomas got word to me that he was in good with the top dog of the racket. Unfortunately, the man he was working with had a daughter..."

"So, what? Grigsby falls in love?" Booth snickered at Green's scowl. "So you're plan collapses because Grigsby was screwing the guy's daughter? How did that even work? Aren't the Pakistani women sequestered away from the men like they are in Afghanistan?"

"It seems the man in charge of the family is not as devout a Muslim as others in the area. His daughter runs his household for him, and that's how she met our operative. Thomas gave up everything so he could marry her...I guess he got her pregnant, and that would be a death sentence for both of them if she gave birth out of wedlock, so he renounced his American citizenship and took a Pakistani name, supposedly converting to Islam to become her husband. He's planning to stay in the country with her...but he's too much of a liability for let us allow him to just walk away from the Company. He knows too much about what's going on...if he were to give even a hint of how the CIA is trying to influence things in Pakistan, there would be horrible repercussions for all of our operatives in the region. We have to take him out...or, rather, you have to take him out."

"That's murder, John, pure and simple." Booth rose from his chair and began to pace the small office. "You want me to take out the operative because you fucked up with this hare brained scheme? And if I don't, you threaten to hurt me and the people I care about? Anyway, how am I gonna be able to do this project? It's not like I can just show up in Darra Adam Khel, ask for directions to his house and then blow him away. I'd never get out alive…no way in hell..."

"There, there, Booth...it's not really going to be murder." Green tried to smile as he continued. "You're just following orders...taking out a traitor because of your allegiance to your government. It won't even present much of a challenge. Thomas and his wife will be in Peshawar next week, visiting her gynecologist for a prenatal check up. You just have to pop him when he's in town with her. We'll have a chopper drop you off outside of Peshawar in a few days. Another one of our operatives will meet you and give you a place to stay, so you won't have to worry about being seen in the city. Piece of cake…" Green chuckled at his little joke as he looked over Thomas Grigsby's picture again. "Of course, secrecy is our utmost concern. You can't tell anyone about your mission...not even Temperance. When the job is done, your contact will arrange for you to be picked up and brought back here to the base. So, you see, you'll only be delayed a week at the most. You should still be back in the States before Christmas, just like you planned…"

Seething with anger, Booth put his hands on the back of his chair, towering over John Green as he vented his rage. "I hope you burn in Hell, you goddamn bastard. Know this...this is my last job for you. If I'm successful, and I make it home, you are never to contact me again, or I shoot you right between the eyes. Understood?"

"Of course, Booth…" Green offered a conciliatory smile. "How soon can you leave?"

"Since Major Evans is giving this mission the okay, I guess I can leave day after tomorrow. I need to work out a bit with the rifle I'm going to be using." Booth glanced at the major, who nodded slightly.

"Excellent. I'll make arrangements for the chopper. Thanks again for your service, Booth. Your country appreciates you…"

Booth made an obscene gesture at Green as he left the office, much to Green's amusement. The CIA operative chuckled to himself as he picked up Thomas Grigsby's picture and put it back in his jacket pocket. Pulling out a flash drive, he placed it on the desk and pushed it towards the major. "Oh, by the way...here's that 'information' you've requested, Major. My IT guy at the Pentagon has gone back and erased all the tracks left by your browsing history...he says no one will be able to tell what you've been looking at." _That's not completely true, but Evans is too desperate to ask me for proof…_ "So where's my money?"

Evans sighed as he took an envelope out of his desk. "This is the best I could do right now...five thousand. I'll have the rest next week…"

"Make sure you do. I'd hate to let the Pentagon know what's going on with their computers out here at this remote outpost." John thumbed through the bills to make sure all the cash was there. "Nice doing business with you. I'll be back…"

Winking broadly at the pathetic Army officer cowering in the chair across the desk for him, John Green rose from his seat and exited the office, whistling a little tune as he thought about the mess he was cleaning up. _Too bad about Booth...I've enjoyed the challenge of dealing with him. Fortunes of war, I guess..._

Oooooooooo

Too keyed up to rest, Booth paced his tiny room as he tried to figure a way to get out of doing the job that John Green had pushed on him. It was one thing to take out a target when the guy was a terrorist or a known murderer. It was something entirely different to end a man's life just because he'd become an inconvenience for the CIA. _I can't do this...I gotta let someone know what that bastard's up to...him, and Major Evans, too..._

Stopping to look out the dingy window, Booth soon realized he had an even more pressing problem at the moment. In all likelihood, Green would renege on any deal he'd made as he tried to get Booth to take on the project. Smith might still be peril, and with no one left who knew the truth, Bones might never find out what happened if he went missing after he completed his task in Peshawar. He needed to get word to Bones, but because his military email account had been suspended, he couldn't sent her a message that way, and he suspected his personal email had been compromised as well. Anyway, he didn't want to risk contacting her with information about this new project, since he wasn't sure whether or not her email had also been hacked. He figured the less she knew about his mission to eliminate Thomas Grigsby, the safer she'd be...

There had to be another way to let her know what was going on…

Nodding to himself, Booth sat down at the desk and pulled out a couple of sheets of paper. Quickly scrawling out a short letter, he folded it and sealed it in an envelope. Writing Rami's name on the outside, Booth shoving it in his pants pocket.

Leaving his room, he slowly walked downstairs and through the door that led outside, trying to appear casual as he jogged across the compound. He was telling the truth when he'd told Green that he'd have to practice with the rifle before he left, but he had something else he needed to do first.

Entering the base hospital, he made his way to Rami's room, relieved to find that his partner was awake. "Hey, Smith. What's up?"

"Booth? Why are you here? Weren't you here just a little while ago?" Rami tried to push himself up in the bed, but he winced in pain. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine, Buddy, but I was just over at Major Evans' office, and he asked me to email your wife for him, okay? He's been too busy to take care of it. Where's your laptop?" Booth tapped his foot nervously as he waited for Smith's drug dulled brain to catch up with the questions. "C'mon, Rami…I'm kinda in a hurry..."

"I think it's...it's over there with my stuff, where you left it. You're gonna email Ziza? That's not the normal procedure, is it? Doesn't the CO do that shit? Or the Information Officer?" Rami groaned as he lay back against his pillow. "What are you gonna tell her? Don't give her too many details, okay? I don't want her to worry about me, Booth…"

"Look, it's no big deal. I'm just doing this as a favor for the major, okay?" Opening the laptop, Booth found the email address for Ziza and hurriedly typed a message. "I'm just letting her know when she can expect to hear from you, and you know, when you think you're gonna get to Germany. That way she'll know about more about what plans to make, right?" Clicking send, Booth fervently hoped Rami's military email account hadn't been suspended yet, although he figured it would only be a matter of time before that happened. Maybe his wife would get the message first.

Booth quickly typed another message, sending it as he chatted with his friend. "Captain Klein says you're leaving early in the morning…good for you, right?" Pulling the envelope out of his pocket, he furtively stuffed it down into the center of Rami's duffle bag. "I'll be right behind you, okay, Buddy? You look me up when you get to DC, okay?"

"Okay. Hey, Booth? Thanks for letting Ziza know, okay?", Rami mumbled. "You're a good friend."

"No problem. You take care of yourself, Smith…" Booth walked over to shake the man's hand. "Don't forget...check on me when you get home…"

"Roger that. Good luck, Booth…" Rami's eyes were getting heavy as he grew drowsy.

"Thanks. I'm gonna need it." Sighing heavily, Booth took one last look at his friend before heading over to the armory.

He knew he would do whatever it took to protect the people he cared about...no matter the price. _But...Jesus...I gotta find a way outta completing this fucking project..._


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N: Thank you for your continued interest in my story. If you have time to leave a review, I'd appreciate it. Laura.**_

* * *

Yawning as he stretched in his desk chair, Danny Beck tried once again to focus on his computer monitor. It was getting late, and he knew he should be heading home soon, especially since he had an early morning meeting the next day, but he just couldn't let this idea go. He felt like John Green was up to no good, and he had to do something to prevent the asshole from causing any further damage to the Company's reputation.

Rubbing his eyes, Danny leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Unfortunately, he had no idea what specific project Green was involved in right now, and even if he found out, he might be powerless to fix things, but he knew he couldn't give up...not yet. He needed to find proof of what was going on with the guy. He couldn't ignore it, hoping it would go away...there was too much at stake…

…..perhaps even a man's life.

Danny hadn't planned to get so entangled in this situation. After all, he was CIA, just like Green. _Well, maybe not 'just like Green'...I do have some sense of right and wrong..._ Shaking his head as he scrolled down the page on his monitor, he sighed in frustration. He'd hoped his visit to Ms. Julian would've taken care of the issue. He'd needed to remain an anonymous bystander, and he'd hoped that she'd be proactive in passing along his concerns to those who needed to know. She had assured him that she would see to it, but he still had a nagging feeling something was off somewhere. It seemed as if the message hadn't gotten through to its intended recipients.

 _Goddammit...maybe I should just give it a rest. It's not like it's any of my business, right? I mean, Green still works for the Company...he's supposed to be the good guy in this deal...but still...he's a notorious fuck up...he's out to cover his ass...he's not above using somebody to get what he needs...that's just par for the course...all of us do the same thing...we do our job and then cover our tracks..._

Turning back to his computer, Danny craned his neck from one side to the other, trying to work out the kinks that had formed after hours of being hunched over his keyboard. It appeared, from what he could piece together via various 'off the record' sources in the region, that Booth had indeed been successful in taking out the intended target...that he'd been the guy who'd killed Adelb Ghilzai for the Afghan government. For all intents and purposes, his mission should be over, and he should be coming home soon.

However, there was one huge flaw with that notion. As it turned out, Danny didn't know for sure where John Green was hiding out right now, and, because it was Green who was involved, there was a chance that the bastard was going to try to use some leverage against Booth in order to force him to take on some sort of clean up operation. Green and Booth had shared a long history together since the first Gulf War. _I tried to tell Booth that Green was trouble...but Seeley said he needed the money for his kid...he said he could handle working for Green occasionally, but he had to know that working for that son of a bitch is like selling your soul to the Devil...he's never satisfied...he always wants more, and you're never free again..._

Booth had done some sniper work for the Company in the past, but that was supposed to be over. The former Ranger was in the FBI now, and he didn't want to do that kind of undercover shit for the CIA any more. Unfortunately, John Green, a masterful manipulator, wasn't the kind of guy to give up easily. If he wanted Booth to do something, no matter what it was, he most likely had the means to force Booth into compliance. ' _Damn that Green…' ,_ Beck thought to himself as he scratched the back of his head. '... _always in trouble somewhere. I think the Company needs to cut ties with that bastard. I'm not sure he's loyal to anyone but himself…and who knows what operation he's fucked up this time...but I bet he wants Booth to go in and save his ass. I just hope Seeley comes out with his own skin intact...'_

Laughing mirthlessly, Danny searched another file. There was a huge volume of information to go through, and he'd hardly made a dent in it. This was the price he paid for being loyal to his friend, right? Skipping meals and staying up half the night going through mountains of data? However, Danny could never forget how Booth had saved his bacon more than once when they'd served together during Desert Storm, and now it seemed it was time for payback. "Maybe I should leave well enough alone…", he muttered to himself as he looked at the next page of the spreadsheet. "Booth's a big boy...he can take care of himself…anyway, it's not like I can go pop Green..."

However, Danny was certain that Green was involved in some illicit activities, and he couldn't get away from the anxiety he felt in the pit of his stomach. The guy was always looking for an angle...always looking for a way to cut corners or to get around the law, no matter who got hurt. _It's just collateral damage_ , _isn't it?_ _Get the results by any means necessary, right? I mean, who cares if it's legal…who cares if you're taking money under the table...who cares if it isn't in the best interests of our country? Too bad if a good guy gets hurt along the way...Green gets results for us...that's all that counts in this business..._

Danny had long suspected that the operative was involved in several illegal activities on the side...taking kickbacks or using classified information to blackmail his contacts. Unfortunately, Danny was going on his instincts alone...he had no real proof that Green was doing anything shady.

 _And nobody up top gives a damn about my instincts...especially when it comes to John Green...everybody's darling...our man in Afghanistan..._

Beck's supervisor had been very unhappy with his agent's desire to focus on Green's less than sterling reputation when there were so many more important fires to be put out all over the world. Green got the job done, and no one was in the mood to rock that boat right now. Finally putting his foot down, the boss had informed the agent that any work that was being done to find 'information' about Green's suspicious activities would have to be on his own time, and any proof would have to be unequivocable. The CIA was not about to remove one of their best operatives from the field just because another agent was offended by the guy's questionable tactics.

Unfortunately, since he had to use the Company's computer to do his searching into Green's plans, Danny was still in his office. Glancing at his watch, he felt his stomach rumble with hunger. "What the fuck? It's 9:30. Christ...I'd better go get something to eat and go home…"

That was when he saw the name he needed. "Thomas Grigsby...son of a bitch. That's it. I bet that's what this whole shitstorm is about...Grigsby and that idiot plan that John had cooked up to take down those Pakistani arms manufacturers. Now that Grigsby's quit the operation and gone off to live with his Pakistani fiancee, Green wants Booth to take the guy out. Green doesn't have the balls to do it himself, so he has to call in backup to solve the problem, and since Booth's already in the area it has to be him. Jesus..."

Sitting back in his chair, the agent ran his hand over his tired eyes, sighing in frustration as he looked at his monitor again. "How the hell am I gonna get Booth out of this one?"

Oooooooooo

Leaning back into the stiff seat of the noisy Lakota helicopter, Booth shifted nervously as he stared out at the bleak dun colored scenery moving below him. The featureless plain seemed to stretch for miles in all directions, with nothing to hold his interest but a few clumps of low scrub. There was no landmark...nothing to point the way toward where he was going. _I might as well be going to Hell…_

He glanced at the pack and gun case next to him, hoping to get this job over as quickly as possible so he could finally go home. He once again vowed to himself that he'd never again be this far apart from the people he loved. _I can't wait to see Bones…_

He couldn't help but worry about her, even though he knew she was capable of taking care of herself. Thinking back on all of the shit Green had spouted in the major's office...about how the bastard had dated Bones...Booth knew it was no coincidence that John Green...or, as she knew him, Rick Carothers...had struck up a friendship with her. _He must've known that we'd been working together...how I felt about her. He was using her to get to me…goddamn son of a bitch...he wanted leverage..._

That realization had hit him like a ton of bricks as he lay awake in the early morning hours. Green had made his move on Brennan while Booth was otherwise engaged. _He swooped in on Bones when I was with Hannah, and I'd let my relationship with my partner slide...I believed what Hannah had said about Bones wanting to end things between us, and then Green slithered in to fill that void in her life, didn't he? Jesus...he attached himself to her when she was vulnerable...who knows what he told her about me...and I was too busy to see what was happening...did he tell her he loved her? Did she ever feel something special for him?_

He shook off his disturbing thoughts as he gazed out of the chopper's window. That was exactly what Green had wanted...to dredge up his doubts and insecurities. _That jackal tried to ruin my life, but I'm not gonna let that happen...I trust Bones...I know she trusts me...that she loves me..._

He felt some peace in the knowledge that she cared for him, but that wasn't what mattered right now. In a couple of hours, he'd be in Pakistan, and the uncertainty facing him there was tying his stomach into knots. He'd tried all of the breathing exercises he knew to calm himself, but to no avail. Exhausted from a sleepless night, he soon closed his eyes, hoping to concentrate on the smattering of conversation between the pilot and the copilot, but his mind still wandered back to the events of the previous day.

oooooooooo

He'd crawled out of bed at zero dark thirty yesterday morning, and, after dressing quickly, he jogged over to the base hospital to complete his errand. Captain Klein had said that Rami was leaving for Germany on the first flight out that morning, and he wanted to be there to make sure that happened. After discovering that Major Evans had sold him out to Green, Booth was unable to trust anyone to have his friend's best interest at heart. He also knew himself well enough to know he wouldn't be able to rest easy until he saw with his own eyes that his friend had actually been loaded on the transport plane, and that the flight had actually taken off from Bagram Airfield. He'd said his goodbyes to his comrade and then watched the proceedings intently until the plane was safely in the air, figuring that John Green wouldn't be brave enough or stupid enough to try to arrest Sergeant Smith once he was at the base hospital in Germany. Satisfied that Rami was now reasonably safe, Booth sighed as he checked his watch. He had time to grab some breakfast, and then he had another errand to take care of before he worked out with the rifle he was going to use on his new assignment.

Standing in the chow line for a few minutes, Booth watched as a group of younger soldiers ahead of him jostled for position while they laughed and talked, joking around with each other as they were being served their meal. Realizing they were in the presence of an NCO, one of them finally called out to his companions. "At ease!" Waiting until his companions were quiet, the young soldier saluted crisply. "Excuse me, Sergeant Major Booth. I didn't see you standing there. Please take my spot in line."

Returning the salute, Booth couldn't help but grin. "Thank you, Private Reagan, but I'm fine. You go on ahead…I'm sure you're in more of a hurry than I am this morning."

"Yes, Sergeant Major. Thank you, Sergeant Major." The young men returned to the task at hand, whispering among themselves as they nervously glanced over their shoulders. _Who's the old guy?_ , they asked one another. ' _What's he doing here?'_

Shaking his head at the GIs, Booth chuckled to himself as he remembered being that young, thinking that he was a real hotshot... _practically indestructible, right? I thought I could do anything I wanted to do...that I was invincible...and look at me now..._ After picking up his tray, he went to the NCO dining room and found a quiet table by a window where he could eat his breakfast undisturbed. He stared out at the people going about their business on the base like it was a normal day. _Like there's ever a normal day when you're this close to the action…you gotta be on your guard every fucking minute..._ He finished his eggs and drank the last of his coffee in solitude, trying to focus his thoughts on his new task without much success. All he could think about was how angry he was to be forced into this position, and how badly he wanted to go home. As he moved to put away his tray, he gave himself a stern pep talk. _I can't afford to stay angry, because being angry may cause me to make a mistake. I gotta stay on the ball...gotta concentrate...finish up...go home...call Danny Beck about that bastard Green..._

He stepped out into the clear, cold morning and, after hesitating a minute or two, he walked over to the chaplain's office. Opening the door, he entered into an empty outer room. "Hello? Anybody here?"

"Oh, hi! I didn't hear you come in." Dressed in fatigues that bore the chaplaincy insignia, a middle aged woman entered the room carrying some Bibles. "Can I help you, Sergeant Major?"

"Um...well, Captain...is the Catholic chaplain available?" Booth looked past the woman's shoulder, trying to see into the adjoining room. "I'd like to speak to him…"

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we don't have one assigned to us right now. Father LeMont suddenly became very ill, and he's on his way home...his appendectomy had some rather serious complications, I'm afraid. He left for Germany yesterday, and his replacement won't arrive for another day or two." Captain Jarvis smiled as she stacked the Bibles on a dusty shelf. "Maybe I can help, Sarge, if you need something of a religious nature. I'm an ordained Episcopal priest, so I work for the same Guy as Father LeMont, you know?"

"Yeah, I know..." Pinching his lips together, Booth sat heavily in one of the chairs lined up along the waiting room's wall, his shoulders drooping a little as he explained the reason for his visit. "It's just...well, I was hoping the Catholic chaplain would be able to hear my confession and give me absolution. I have to leave on a dangerous mission tomorrow, and things may get rough…and I wanna be right with God before I go."

Captain Jarvis grimaced slightly as she ran her fingers across one of the Bibles. "I see. Well, Father LeMont was worried that this might happen, so he gave me some tips on how to handle it. Of course, I can't grant the same kind of absolution as a Catholic priest, but I'd be willing to listen to whatever you want to tell me. Then we can pray together, if you want. Why don't you come back into my office? It might help to talk about things...I don't think there's anything you can tell me that would shock me, okay? I've heard it all..."

"Well, if you've got time, I guess it couldn't hurt." Rising to follow the no nonsense woman, Booth swallowed nervously at the awkwardness of the situation. She pointed to a chair in her office, and then closed the door behind them before she sat down opposite of him.

"So here's how it works. You can tell me whatever you want, and it stops here, unless you want me to tell the new priest when he arrives. If not, I promise that it will go no further than me." Captain Jarvis paused as she sat back in her chair, waiting patiently for her visitor to begin.

"Yeah, okay...thanks. I gotta tell somebody, ma'am." Exhaling slowly, Booth looked away from the captain, studying the floor in front of him. "I'm a sniper, and I've done a lot of jobs for the Army, taking out the bad guys, you know? In fact, I just completed an assignment a couple of days ago." He paused slightly as he felt tears well up in his eyes. "It's a horrible job to have, you know, but it's my responsibility, and for better or for worse, I'm very good at it. That's why they wanted me for the mission I just did...it was because the guys running the show were pretty sure I'd be successful at ...killing a man..."

"I understand." The chaplain's brows knit in concern as she read her visitor's discomfort in his body language. "That must be a hard burden for you to carry around...being good at fulfilling that sort of dreadful responsibility..."

"It can be. I mean, the target we took out the other day was a terrible person, so maybe he deserved to die that way. I don't know. That's not normally my call to make." Booth shrugged as he met the chaplain's compassionate gaze. "I just do what I'm told, right? I don't sit in judgment...I just pull the trigger. I'm a good shot, okay? That's my job, and I'm very good at it. That's all there is to it. It's just my fucking job…I'm a hired assassin..."

"If you really felt that way, Sarge...that it was just a job...we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?" Captain Jarvis watched Booth fidget nervously. "I know it bothers you a lot, and I can understand why. I imagine you wonder how you can ever justify your military responsibilities with your religious beliefs..."

"Yeah, you're right. It does bother me a lot, but most of the time I can get past it. I know I'm just doing my job, and then I can ask God to forgive me for taking a life, and I know He does...my faith tells me that. He promises to do that for me, okay? I know He forgives me. That's what confession does for me, right? I express contrition and I resolve not to commit that sin again, and I gain absolution, which gives me peace of mind about the state of my soul. But then the Army or some other entity tells me I have to go take out another target, so it's like my confession is null and void, and I have to gain absolution and peace of mind all over again. I mean, I know we all sin all the time, and then we have to ask for forgiveness again, but I'm talking about me committing a major sin over and over again, you know? I mean, sometimes I wonder if God gets tired of hearing from me about it...or if He's even listening to me at all. Maybe He's given up on me since I keep going out to do this same nasty goddamn job over and over again."

Booth hesitated, grimacing slightly as he thought over his present situation. "So, yeah, it's always a burden, but this time, with this new job I gotta do, it's different...it's a lot worse. I'm supposed to leave tomorrow to take on another project, okay? But here's the problem...this time the target is this guy who hasn't really done anything wrong as far as I can tell. He tried to serve his country, just like me, but he made a bad mistake...he showed some really poor judgment, but nothing worth killing him over, you know? If it was just him and me, I'd have no problem with walking away from this order. Staining my soul by killing a guy like that wouldn't be worth it, you know? However, there are other considerations this time...people who might get hurt if I don't do this thing...people I care about, like my friends...my son...my girlfriend. So is it right for me to follow this order and take out this innocent target just to protect the people I love? I don't know how to justify that to myself or to God, but I don't see anyway around it, either. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"So you were coerced into taking on this job because of perceived threats to people you care about?" Captain Jarvis was clearly upset by that turn of events. "The Army doesn't treat its personnel that way, Booth."

"Yeah, that's true most of the time. In this case, though, it's not the Army that's given me my orders. I've been seconded against my will. An Army officer is backing up the request for my services from another federal agency, so I don't have any recourse other than to comply with the orders I've been given." Booth was becoming agitated. He really didn't want to spill his guts this way, but it seemed that he couldn't stop himself. "Look, Captain, I just needed to talk to someone about this, okay? I'm not looking for an easy way out, and I don't want to rat on anyone. I just need to know if I'm gonna be alright with God about this thing. I mean, is what I'm gonna do on this trip a murder? Am I really a hired assassin, or am I a soldier who's just following orders from people who are supposed to have the nation's best interests in mind when they make their decisions? Am I gonna be able to get some peace of mind when this is over? Because the way I read this job, it's a sin...and I'm not sure I can be forgiven for it. On the other hand, if something happened to my son, or my girlfriend, because I didn't follow through, I'd never forgive myself for that, either, even if it's because I was doing what the Lord says to do in the Bible...you know, _Thou shalt not kill..._ me refusing to kill someone just because a federal agency has decided the guy's an inconvenience and he needs to be dealt with this way."

Captain Jarvis sat quietly for a few minutes, contemplating Booth's question, wondering how she could allay this man's fears. _What are we doing to this soldier, putting him in this position? Sweet Jesus…_ She breathed a desperate prayer before shaking her head slightly. "It's my considered opinion, Sergeant Major, that if any man or woman asks the Lord to forgive them for any sin they've committed, the Lord forgives them. The way I read what is says in the Bible, even if we do horrible things...things we can't even imagine doing...if we ask God for forgiveness in those cases, we can get it. Christ died suffering for our sins, but in His resurrection we have hope of redemption through Him, no matter what we do. He promises that to us. All we have to do is ask Him." She shifted in her chair to look solemnly at Booth. "I know that your denomination puts a premium on acts of penance, Sarge, so here's what I suggest. Follow your conscience about this project that's been forced onto you, and then, if you do decide to take it on, ask the Lord to forgive you for your actions when you complete it. By the time you return from your mission, our new Roman Catholic chaplain should be here, and he can grant you absolution and offer suggestions on what else you need to do for the sake of your mortal soul." Seeing Booth nod tentatively in agreement, she continued softly. "Personally, after talking with you about this issue, Sergeant Major Booth, I'm not worried about the state of your soul. I can see that you don't relish the taking of a life, no matter what the circumstances are, and that should give you hope that you're on the right path. I think you're going to be okay. In my opinion, you're a good man, Sarge, and no project, no matter how vile, will destroy your basic sense of decency." She reached over to take Booth's hand. "Let's pray, okay?"

After making the sign of the cross, Captain Jarvis and Booth bowed their heads together as she prayed for his safety and for his peace of mind.

"Amen. Thanks, Captain." Booth rose to leave. "That helps a lot."

"Any time, Sarge. Good luck...Godspeed." She watched the man leave, praying once again for the Lord to ease the pressure on Booth's tortured soul.

Oooooooooo

"You still with us, Sarge?" The pilot's voice coming through the headphones roused Booth from his reverie. "We're almost to the drop point."

"Yeah, I'm good." Booth checked his equipment once again. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Roger that. We need to be quick, okay? We touch down, you hop out, we take off. Watch your head, okay? Your contact is supposed to meet us there. He'll let us know when you're ready to come home. Your code name is Lone Ranger, right?"

"Yeah." Booth cringed at the stupid code names Green had assigned him and his contact. "Yeah, that's me."

"There's the truck…" The chopper dipped down and lightly dropped onto the ground. "Good luck, brother. See you soon."

"Thanks." Booth ducked as he ran out away from the helicopter's rotors, jogging toward the battered truck as the pilot guided the helicopter back up into the sky. He slowed his pace and approached cautiously, waving slightly at the middle aged man waiting for him. "Silver? I'm the Lone Ranger…"

The man bowed politely before greeting Booth in slightly accented English. "Yes, I am Silver. Welcome to Pakistan."

Oooooooooo

Brennan wore a slight frown as she checked the calendar on her computer. It was the second week in December, and she still hadn't heard anything definitive from Booth that might indicate he was on his way home. Even though she was a supremely logical person, it was difficult not to worry about him, especially given the danger he'd expected to encounter on his mission.

It had been approximately a week since she'd received the email he'd sent assuring her of his success and stating that he hoped to see her soon. Of course, she realized that 'soon' was a relative term where the Army was concerned, and that it didn't really indicate a specific amount of time, but she wanted to believe that his choice of words had been deliberate…that he really believed he'd be home soon, at least in time for Christmas. Christmas was Booth's favorite holiday, and it was hard to imagine that he might miss spending it with Parker if he had any choice in the matter.

Shrugging off her worry, Brennan decided to skim through her email before going out for the morning. Coming across an entry from someone she didn't know, she almost deleted it until she saw the subject line:

 **Smith, Ziza Bones don't delete this message**

"I don't know anyone named Ziza Smith…and why would this person call me Bones?", she mumbled to herself. Curious, she clicked on the message to open it.

 _Dec 3...Bones...I'm gonna be delayed here for a week or two, but I'll be home as soon as I can. I can't give you any more information than that. I know you're wondering why I sent you an email this way, but it's a long story and I can't explain it right now. I should be home by Christmas. Remember….I love you. Booth._

 _PS...don't send a response to this email address…another long story…._

Brennan sat staring at her computer for a few minutes, slightly stunned at this turn of events. She wasn't surprised that Booth had been delayed, but she found that she was incredibly curious to know why he hadn't used his normal email address. He'd obviously used someone else's email account, but why? He'd realized she'd wonder about that, too...that's why he'd added the 'don't delete this' instruction to the subject line.

 _Who is Ziza Smith? Why did he use that email?_ Brennan's curiosity was piqued, and she had a thousand questions, but it seemed the answers would have to wait until she saw Booth again. Realizing he must have a good explanation for his request, she sent a brief response to his military email account.

 _I understand. Looking forward to seeing you soon. I love you, too._

She hit send, and she received a notification almost immediately. Opening her email again, she was shocked by what she read.

 _Mail undeliverable. This address does not exist or the recipient's mailbox is full._

"This address does not exist?" She checked it again, and saw that it was the same one she'd used to send her previous emails. "How could his mailbox be full?"

Brennan inhaled sharply, trying to remain calm and objective. It seemed like something odd was going on. It was odd enough to make her feel unsettled, but she wasn't sure exactly why she felt that way. She wondered if Angela could look into the situation with Booth's email account, but Angela was still adjusting to having a newborn baby at home. Finally, Brennan shook her head. There must be a rational explanation, and Booth said he'd tell her it when he came home. She'd have to be satisfied with that for now. She shut down her computer and left to run her errands.

Oooooooooo

Booth glanced at his driver as the truck bumped along the highway toward Peshawar. Given his appearance and his dress, the middle aged man he knew as 'Silver' was obviously native to the area, but he offered no information about himself to his passenger.

Finally clearing his throat, Booth spoke softly. "You speak excellent English."

"Thank you. As a young man, I was educated at a university in the United States and I spent several years there afterwards, working for many Pakistani government organizations until I was asked by my family to return home." Silver grimaced as they hit a pothole. "I have known John Green for many years. I was hoping to be done with him…but he continues to cause me difficulty...whatever I do for him, it is never enough."

"Believe me, I understand that. I hate that fucking son of a bitch." Booth shook his head as he watched the cold, dusty landscape go by the truck's passenger window. "He manipulated me into taking this job…"

"He has a talent for that. He did the same thing to me." Silver ran a knuckle under his eye before he continued. "He knows things about me…about my family...devastating things...dangerous things...I had no choice but to comply with his wishes in this matter."

"Yeah, I know." Booth nodded as he scratched his neck. "I don't know how he does that...how he finds out those things. It's kinda scary, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." The driver began to relax a bit as they got closer to the city. "Enough about him. Let us discuss your project. Your target will be in Peshawar for several days, so you will have adequate time to achieve your goal. I have arranged for a place for you to sleep, and I will show you the best places from which to strike at the man."

Booth eyed the man cautiously. "You seem to be well informed. How did you get your information?"

Silver shook his head as he grimaced in disgust. "From Farhan Rizvi, the brother of the woman who is married to Thomas Grigsby. He takes it as a personal affront to his pride that his sister has chosen to consort with an 'infidel', even though Grigsby seems to have converted to Islam. The woman's father, old Zahid, gave his blessing to their union because his daughter, Amra, became pregnant by Grigsby, but Farhan is a radical, and has no pity for his sister or her husband...or for their unborn child. Farhan promised his father that he would not raise a hand to his sister's husband, so he has turned to us to handle the problem instead, via his connection to Green. Technically he will still have kept his promise, but he will also have achieved his goal...the death of the infidel who has defiled his sister. Then, with her husband dead, his sister will have no protection…."

"You mean the son of a bitch would kill his own sister and her child?" Booth closed his eyes as he shuddered violently. "I can't believe it…"

"Her brother says it is a matter of honor, but it has nothing to do with honor or religion. In reality, he wants to prove to his business associates that he is a strong, ruthless man...someone to be feared...and he will also prove that his father is a weakling who tolerates unseemly behavior from women. That is why he has arranged the death of his brother in law, and, by extension, of his sister. By doing so, he can then easily take over the family business from old Zahid." Silver shrugged a shoulder. "You will not be involved in that aspect of the problem, Ranger...not with Amra. If any sort of threat to her life occurs, it will be later, after you are gone, so it will be none of your concern. The old man will probably try to send his daughter and his grandchild out of the country after Grigsby's death...possibly even to the States. Because of his business interests, he is a wealthy man and he can afford to do so. Do not worry about that. You just have to take out Grigsby to fulfill the part of the bargain you made with Green."

"I don't get it. I mean, why is Green involved in a family squabble like this anyway? What's in it for him?" Booth gave his companion a sideways glance. "You know that bastard doesn't do anything for anybody unless it serves his own purposes."

Shrugging off the question, Silver shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine, but I would say that Green thinks that he will gain a powerful ally in the region if he helps Grigsby's brother in law. Farhan Rizvi will be running a major arms distribution organization when he succeeds his father as the head of the family, which will make him a wealthy man. Perhaps Green wants in on the distribution action...or perhaps he merely hopes to make money."

 _Or the bastard just wants to tie up loose ends. I bet he tried to bring Grigsby home, and the guy wanted to stay with his wife and kid instead. Green can't take a chance on leaving this guy behind in case he talks too much...that would come back to bite everybody on the ass..._ Booth once again cursed John Green. "Goddamn that man. Making a deal with that mother fucker is the same as making a deal with the devil. Okay, I tell you what, Silver. I want to get this thing over with as quickly as I can. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can go home, and the better off we'll both be, right?"

"Right." Silver nodded as he drove on, hoping that the American sitting next to him really was right, but he held out little hope. It would be far more likely that neither one of them would ever be completely finished with John Green as long as either of them were alive.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: thank you for the kind words as this story continues. If you have time to leave a review, I would appreciate it.**_

* * *

A couple of days had passed since John Green had seconded Sergeant Major Booth for a special CIA sniper mission in Pakistan, and Major Evans had started to breathe a little easier. John Green had left Bagram right after Booth had taken off for Pakistan in order to take care of some Company business elsewhere, and he'd given no indication of when he might return to collect the rest of his hush money. It seemed to Evans that his own personal crisis had passed, and that perhaps he had dodged the proverbial bullet. He was starting to believe that he might get by this little episode unscathed by any whiff of scandal. _After all...I held up end of the bargain...it's not my fault the asshole hasn't come back..._

Evans opened his desk drawer and ran his finger across the black flash drive that Green had sold to him. It was true that he still owed that asshole five thousand dollars, but it was a small price to pay if it would keep him out of a federal prison. Anyway, it seemed Green hadn't been in a hurry to collect the rest of his money, so with any luck, maybe that nasty ooperative had crawled back under his rock instead. _Maybe he'll forget about me...after all, it's long trip to come back to this dump just to pick up a few thousand dollars..._

The major only had a few more years before he could retire from the Army, and any glitch that happened now would totally fuck up the plans he'd made for his golden years...plans like running an online photography business from that little house in Guam. He'd given the Army the best years of his life, and he felt that he deserved the retirement money was coming to him for his service. So what if he had one nasty habit...it wasn't like he'd actually stolen anything or killed anyone. So what if he liked a certain sort of nude picture…it was just art, right? He should still be able to enjoy life, right? It wasn't like he really was hurting anyone. Anyway, all it had cost him to free himself of that worry was five thousand dollars. _A real bargain..._

Closing his desk drawer, he had gotten up to pour himself another cup of coffee when he heard a ruckus in the outer office. "You can't go in there, sir…", Corporal O'Hara was yelling. "Sir...wait a minute…let me tell Major Evans you're here..."

Two stern Army officers were soon standing in the major's doorway. "Major Evans...I'm Captain Jordan, sir, and this is Lieutenant Blair. We're with the Judge Advocate General's office. We have a warrant to search your desk and to confiscate your computer and any flash drives you may have in your possession, sir…"

"What? Why?" Trying to remain calm, Evans glanced nervously at the paper Jordan had handed him. "I don't understand…why are you here? What are you looking for? As the base commander, I need computer access...you can't take away my computer, Captain. I need it to run the base..."

"Everything is explained in the search warrant, sir." Pointing to a paragraph on the page, Captain Jordan nodded at the Lieutenant, who was sitting at the computer, typing at the keyboard. "The Army's Cyber Operations Division got an anonymous tip, suggesting that we take a look at your browsing history, Major Evans. We're looking for any evidence of child pornography." Shaking his head in disgust, Captain Jordan was grim as the lieutenant pulled up some pictures of nude children on the monitor. "Major George Evans, you are under arrest for the possession of child pornography with the intent to distribute. I'm afraid you'll need to come with us, sir. You are entitled to legal representation. Anything you say may be used against you at your court martial…"

As the officers handcuffed Major Evans and led him away, he began to hyperventilate as he realized what had happened. _It was Green...he tipped them off...he took my money, and then he exposed me...he ratted me out to the Army...and now they know everything...I'm ruined...I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch..._

oooooooooo

Booth lay on a rug that had been thrown on the floor of a tiny unheated room in the upper story of a rundown brick building, shivering under a thin blanket as he stared at the ceiling. It was well past midnight, and he was physically exhausted, but his restless mind refused to let him sleep. The more he thought about this mission, the more he realized it was the wrong thing to do, but there seemed to be no way to get around making an attempt to complete it. If he decided not to pull the trigger, he'd have to figure out how to get back to the base at Bagram on his own, and then he'd need to try to get back to the States without any sort of command authorization. Even if he could manage to find a commercial flight out of Peshawar, he had no way to pay for it, and no passport, either. He had very little cash, and he felt sure Green was watching his credit card accounts for any unusual activity...not that he had a way to use them, anyway. _It's not like I brought the damn things with me..._ His phone wasn't working, he had no access to a computer, and he had no other way to get in touch with Bones...no way to contact anyone else that could help him get out of that goddamn town. He'd considered giving himself up at the American Embassy, but that would probably lead to all sorts of different questions...questions with no good answers...questions about who had sent him and why. Those questions might alert Green, and that was the last thing Booth wanted to do right now. _I gotta make him believe I'm gonna comply…Goddammit...what am I gonna do?_ He rolled over and tried to relax, sighing in frustration as he gazed into the darkness. The complications involved in getting home on his own seemed insurmountable. He was trapped like a rat, and, as far as he could tell, there was only one way out of the fucking maze. In spite of his terrible misgivings, he was going to have to take down Thomas Grigsby.

Groaning as he tried to get comfortable on his small pallet, Booth forced himself to think of happier things. If he could complete this job quickly, he'd most likely be home for Christmas as long as Green held up his end of the bargain. That was a _big_ 'if', but he couldn't afford to concentrate on that issue right now. He would focus instead on how much he was looking forward to the holidays. He'd given Bones a list of of the gifts he'd wanted her to send to Pops and to buy for Parker. He was going to make damn sure his son would have a great Christmas morning even if he wasn't home yet. He knew his girlfriend would go to great lengths to complete her shopping tasks, even if she had to drive all over town or into the neighboring states to do so. If that didn't work, she'd scour the internet to find exactly what he'd specified for Parker's gifts. He chuckled in spite of himself. All he'd have to do would be to show up in time to watch Parker open his presents, right? That ought to make everyone happy...

But what to give Bones for Christmas? He smiled as he thought of his beautiful girlfriend. She'd probably tell him that she didn't need anything except to have him home permanently, but he wanted to get her something nice...something extra special. _Of course, with all her money, she's got lots of 'special' things...not sure I could top any of them...but I still do like the idea of an 'I love you' ring...it can't look like an engagement ring, but it has to be special...maybe some sort of stone...or maybe just a band of some sort...silver like her dolphin ring...something she can wear all the time..._ he was working through the problem as he drifted off to sleep.

oooooooooo

The sun had just barely risen above the horizon when Silver came to the room several hours later, pushing aside the ragged curtain that covered the doorway. "Ranger, you must get up. I have information for you. I know where Grigsby will be this morning. Perhaps you can complete your mission today."

"Hmph…yeah." Booth quickly shook off his slumber as he sat up, stretching and rubbing his eyes. "Just a minute." He quickly pulled on a plain dark sweatshirt over his tee shirt and stepped into his boots. Grabbing his baseball cap, he looked at Silver suspiciously, hesitating slightly as he finished dressing. "Are you sure I'm not gonna be noticed while I'm out running around in the city? It's pretty obvious I'm not from around here, you know? I'm gonna stick out like a goddamn sore thumb."

Leaning against the door frame, Silver shook his head. "Almost two million people live in the city and the surrounding suburbs, Ranger, and people come here from all over the world, so you will most likely be just another face in the crowd. However, if anyone asks why you are here, you can tell them you work at the offices of the American Embassy here in Peshawar. Green has asked me to provide you with a temporary ID card. He told me what name to use on it so no one will know your true identity." He shrugged as he handed the card to Booth. "However, I doubt that you will really need it."

"I hope not. It'd be awkward to have to answer too many questions." Booth shook his head in disgust as he saw the name under his picture on the card. "Clayton Moore, my ass. That bastard Green thinks he's fucking hilarious, doesn't he?"

"I do not understand…" Silver's brow furrowed as he looked over Booth's shoulder. "Is there a problem?"

"No, not really.", Booth grumbled as he shoved the card in his back pocket and picked up the case holding his rifle. "Okay, you said you know where the target is gonna be this morning, right? Who gave you the intel? Is the source reliable?"

"My source is Farhan Rizvi, Grigsby's brother in law, so I would consider the information to be accurate. He sent me word late last night that he has arranged to meet his sister and brother in law for breakfast this morning, with the excuse that he wants to discuss something about the family business. Farhan has chosen a cafe that has tables for dining outside. There is a tall building in the area from which you can take the shot, and he has arranged for us to have access to the rooftop. Here is a picture of your target." Silver handed Booth a tattered photograph of a stocky blonde, blue eyed man. "Farhan said they are to meet him at 8:30. It is six now. You have time to eat something if you wish…"

As if to answer the question, Booth's stomach growled loudly. "Yeah, I should probably eat something, like maybe some bread and some yoghurt…or leftovers from dinner if there are any. Whatever you have is fine. Don't feel like you have to go to a lot of trouble on my account."

"Of course. It is no problem. I will bring you some food shortly." Stepping out of the room and closing the curtain closed behind him, Silver trotted noisily down the narrow stairs. Booth wondered if this building they were using was actually the man's home, imagining how deep Silver was in trouble with John Green if he had to risk allowing an unauthorized American citizen stay with him for a few days. Gazing out onto the dimly lit street below, Booth nodded to himself. When he got home, one of the first things he was going to do, after spending a week in bed with Bones, was to make a formal complaint about that douchebag Green to the CIA via Colonel Randall..or maybe through Danny Beck. Either way, he was going to do his best to get Green put away for good. The bastard needed to be reined in somehow, or more people would have to pay the ultimate price for his escapades. _I'd love to shoot the bastard right between the eyes...but that might cause all sorts of problems in the long run. I hope going through channels takes that fucking piece of shit out of commission..._

After a light breakfast, Silver drove Booth to an older part of the city, which was intersected with narrow winding streets filled with several small shops and market stalls. People milled around at a leisurely pace in the market, doing their daily shopping and enjoying their coffee as they laughed and talked with their friends. Loud music was playing somewhere off in the distance, and a couple of teams of three or four boys each were playing a rowdy game of soccer. It was just another pleasant winter's day. Booth groaned quietly as he surveyed the scene before him. _This is a terrible place to take the shot...all this pedestrian traffic...all these people in the way.._.

Parking his truck behind a dilapidated three story building, Silver unlocked the security bars and led Booth through the back door and up some rickety flights of stairs until they arrived at a wooden door that led out onto the roof. Squinting in the pale early morning sunlight, the men walked to a corner of the roof overlooking the street below. "It is common for buildings in this part of the city to have rooftop gardens.", Silver explained. "The edge of the roof is built up so that we cannot easily be seen, and this building is situated so that the sun's rays will not strike us...we will be in the shadows because of the time of day. Pointing across the street at the opposite corner, Silver continued. "That is the cafe where our target will be." He pulled a small pair of binoculars from his pocket. "Because I know what Farhan looks like, I will be your spotter, if you wish."

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Shivering in the chilly morning air, Booth took his rifle out of the case and put the tripod together as he looked around the area, trying to choose a place from which to shoot. "I'm assuming we'll be able to get outta here pretty quickly if we need to, right? I mean, we're in the middle of the older part of the city and there are hundreds of people walking around down there. Cops will be swarming this place in a matter of minutes once they figure out where the shot came from…and we'll be totally fucked..."

"Our contact has chosen this meeting place with that in mind, Ranger. You will notice there is very little vehicular traffic in this area, because the streets are so narrow and crooked. Only a few delivery trucks are allowed into the area early in the morning. Most vehicles must park in lots away from the pedestrian area. By the time the police arrive to investigate the scene, we will be gone." Silver checked his watch before focusing his binoculars on the street in front of them. "8:00. There is our contact...he is wearing a red topi...a red skullcap. He's sitting at the table on the far right. See him? That is Farhan."

Booth nodded as he looked through his gunsite, spotting the tall, dark haired man, who was casually smoking a cigarette as he sat at a table in the cafe's small courtyard. "Yeah, I see him. So now we wait for his guests to arrive…"

They waited in silence for two hours, but there was no sign of Thomas Grigsby or his wife. Finally, Silver's phone rang, startling both men. After a short, angry conversation, he hung up and put the phone in his pocket, avoiding eye contact with Booth. "They are not coming to breakfast. They have cancelled because Amra says she is not feeling well."

"Son of a bitch. There's two hours in the toilet." Booth quickly picked up his rifle and tripod, packing them away in the gun case. "I'm not really surprised, though. Grigsby's a well trained CIA operative. He probably took one look at the set up down there and figured out he was walking into a trap, so he called off the meeting."

"Rizvi wants to try us again day after tomorrow, if you are willing…he knows where they will be.", Silver said as he put his binoculars back into his pocket. "I know that is not an ideal situation for you. I know you want to finish this job quickly."

"Yeah, well, the truth is that this whole fucking thing is not an ideal situation for me...", Booth growled as he followed Silver down the stairs and out to the truck. "...but there's not a lot we can do about it now. I guess I can crash in that little room where I stayed last night if you don't care…"

"Of course, Ranger. It is my desire that we complete this mission successfully. This will be the last project I take on for Green, and I want it to have a positive outcome so he has no reason to bother me again." Silver tried to smile as they drove back to the building where Booth was staying. "Unfortunately, I can offer little in the way of entertainment for you while you wait to try again…"

"I understand." Booth rubbed his chin as he watched the city go by from the passenger window. "Hey, can you get me some paper and a pencil? I need to write a letter…"

"We can arrange that." Silver gave his passenger a sideways glance. "A letter to your wife, I suppose…"

His wife. Silver's off hand statement took Booth by surprise. Bones wasn't his wife yet, but he was determined to make some sort of permanent arrangements as soon as he could when he returned to the States. _Maybe not my wife...but I want to make damn sure she never belongs to anyone else..._ "Yeah, my wife. Will you be able to mail it for me? I've got a few rupees with me so I can pay some toward the postage…"

"I will take care of it." Silver sighed as he parked his truck. "I have not seen my wife and children for several months, and I miss them very much. I know how you must feel, Ranger. Some feelings are common to all men."

"You're right." Booth nodded as he heard the longing in his companion's voice. "It's hard, being separated from our family like that. Maybe when we finish this project you can go home to your wife, too."

"I hope so. I will bring you some paper shortly." Silver sighed as he watched Booth climb the stairs. Mailing Ranger's letter home would be the least he could do for the man, especially since it would probably be the last letter the man would ever send.

Oooooooooo

"Are you okay, Sweetie?", Angela asked as she gently bounced Michael-Vincent in her arms. She smiled at her friend, who was sitting opposite of her at the dining room table. "You look tired...and worried..."

Brennan pushed her plate away as she pretended to be unconcerned. "I'm fine, Angela." Taking a sip of her tea, she tried to avoid eye contact with her friend. "Are you ready for the holidays? I see your Christmas tree is set up. It's quite beautiful."

"Yeah, it's a nice tree...but that's not what we need to talk about right now, okay? Please tell me what's wrong. I want to help. Please?" Angela tilted her head, watching as Brennan sighed and pinched her lips together. "Is this about Booth?"

 _How does she always know what I'm thinking?_ Running her finger tips around the rim of her cup, Brennan nodded slightly. "Yes. It's silly, really. I haven't heard from him in almost two weeks…and I'm trying to be logical about it, but it's difficult. I know the Army looks at time in a different way than I do, but it seems like such a long time for him to go without contacting me..."

"Well, isn't that to be expected?" Angela was confused as to why that was an issue. "Has he finished his mission?"

"Yes. As you may remember, several days ago I received an email from him saying he'd been successful and that he should be home soon." Brennan pursed her lips slightly as she thought about what had happened. "Then a few days after he'd sent that message, I got an email from an address of someone I don't know. It was labeled 'Bones, don't delete this message', which I thought was strange. When I opened it, I discovered it was from Booth. His message said he'd be delayed, but he still hoped to be home by Christmas. I tried to respond, but my message was rejected by the server, and I haven't heard from him since. I know it's not rational, but I'm worried about him. I keep wondering why I haven't received anything else from him."

"Sweetie, you're being perfectly rational. It would be irrational if you weren't worried about the man you love, okay?" Angela thought through Brennan's explanation. "You've sent Booth emails at his military internet address before, right? You're sure it's correct? You know, one little letter can mess up the whole thing."

Brennan laughed in spite of her worries. "Yes, I'm certain it's the correct address. In fact, I sent him a rather explicit photograph of myself several weeks ago, and I know for certain that he was quite pleased to receive it." Sighing softly, she took another sip of her tea. "He told me before he left that email contact would be spotty at best because of where he'd be undertaking his mission. It's probably not anything to be concerned about. I'm sure I'm overreacting...it's just a minor detail. He's probably very busy...in some remote area..."

Deciding to check things out for herself, Angela rose from her seat and handed her little boy to Brennan. "Here, hold Michael-Vincent for a minute while I get my tablet. Okay, what's his email?" After typing a short message, Angela added Booth's email address and hit send. Within seconds she got a return message saying the email had been undeliverable. "This is weird…" Angela typed in some more characters. "This isn't a normal error message. Let me see…" Accessing some more information, she shook her head. "It's like his email has been completely blocked...like his account has been suspended for some reason. I'd say he can't send or receive any email from this account, which is why he used that other address to send you the message.""

"But that's so strange. If he's still on assignment for the military, why would his military email be suspended?" Brennan was trying to avoid being irritated, without much success. "What does it mean, Angela?"

"I'm not sure, Sweetie. You may have to call his commanding officer to see if he knows what's going on. For some reason, I can't get in." Clearly frustrated, Angela turned to Brennan. "This is crazy. It shouldn't be blocked like this. Let's try his regular email address." Angela sent a test message, which wasn't returned. "So his personal email works as far as we can tell, although I don't have the equipment here at home to hack into his account so we can see if it arrived for sure. I imagine his FBI account has been suspended because he's away from the office on reservist leave...Let me try the military account again...no...no luck there. Do you remember his commanding officer's name?"

"Booth said his commanding officer was a Colonel Randall." Annoyed at having to deal with Army red tape, Brennan scowled at the computer. "There must be a logical explanation for his email account being inactive. Perhaps he had to change his account for some reason…I'm sure there's a simple explanation. I'm sure I have no real reason to be worried..."

"Or someone...maybe the Army...deliberately locked it down for some unknown reason so it couldn't be accessed. I mean, he's on a secret mission, so maybe that's why it's suspended, but I doubt it. There wouldn't be any reason for him to change his account...unless he was worried that his email had been compromised, like by a hacker, or something like that." Angela shook her head as she took the baby from Brennan. "I think you should consider getting in touch with Colonel Randall, just in case it was hacked. The colonel would want to know, right? Booth probably would've told you if he knew his account was going to be closed down for some reason. I mean, he wants you to be able to get in touch with him. He probably suspected something might be wrong with his account since he sent you an email from a different address, but it's still strange. I don't know why he wouldn't have set up some sort of different email account, like Gmail or something like that, unless he didn't have time. You know he would've given you a different email address for himself if he had it, right? He must've known something might be going on..."

"You're correct, Angela. He must've known something was wrong." Sighing softly, Brennan nodded. "I'm sure it's nothing, but I'll feel better if I contact Colonel Randall's office tomorrow morning."

Oooooooooo

It was another chilly early morning in Peshawar, and Booth was about to go stir crazy as he sat in the small dank room. The noises of the street below had started to filter in through the poorly sealed window, and based on what had happened over the last two days, he figured it was about 6 AM. Hopefully they'd be able to get on with the business at hand today so he could head home. He'd almost lost track of time, unsure of the date or even the day of the week, but he knew he needed to get home soon. Winter was bearing down on them, and he wanted to avoid being detained any further by the notoriously changeable weather of the area.

He pulled himself back into a corner as he heard footfalls on the stair treads below. Even after spending a few days with Silver, Booth still didn't completely trust the man. _It's hard to trust someone if you don't know their real name._ He also knew that Silver had no reason to trust him, either, and it might be possible that any day now he'd give up the American to some group looking to make a fast buck by holding him as a hostage for ransom.

"Ranger...where are you? I have news." Silver crept quietly into the small space. "We will have an opportunity today. Farhan has sent word that his sister and her husband are visiting her doctor today. He has given us the address for the doctor's office building, and he says he will meet them there."

Booth felt sick to his stomach. Thomas Grigsby would get to hear whatever information the doctor had to give about his unborn child, but he'd never get to see the infant for himself if Booth was successful this morning. "Yeah, okay. How much time?"

"An hour. We should move into place quickly before the morning traffic begins. I have brought you some food."

"Thanks." Booth wasn't very hungry, but he realized it was a sacrifice for Silver to provide food for him, so he ate as much as he could, unsure of when his next meal might be. "I'll be ready in ten minutes."

"I will be waiting downstairs." Silver slipped away into the darkness as Booth got his pack and gun case ready to go.

They took Silver's truck to the newer area of the city where the doctor's office was located, parking in an alley a short distance away that had a view of the building's front facade on the opposite corner. Silver cleared his throat quietly. "They had an appointment with the gynecologist early this morning. Farhan is concerned that they will leave Peshawar soon, so he wants us to act today."

"Well, I want a million bucks, but that's too damn bad, ain't it?", Booth growled. "It's gonna be really hard to get a clear shot from here, especially with all the pedestrians in the area and the traffic…"

"Collateral damage, I suppose, Ranger. Green assured Farhan you could make the shot accurately no matter how difficult the circumstances. He says he has confidence in you." Silver paced tiny alley nervously. "You must be successful today if we are to be released from our bondage to Green…"

"Right." Booth began to set up his tripod and rifle to take the shot, hoping somehow that Grigsby would choose to go out the back door of the clinic and blend into the early morning crowd of people going about their daily routine. He breathed a prayer for forgiveness as he looked through his gunsite, hating himself for what he was about to do. _I really don't want to do this, Lord..._

The street was crowded with people as the offices in the area began to open for business. _How am I gonna know it's the right guy? Surely there weren't that many blonde men in Peshawar, right?_ Inhaling deeply, Booth ground his teeth in frustration as he thought of what he was supposed to do. Grigsby should be easy to spot, and he'd have an excellent opportunity to complete his mission. There was nothing to do now but wait...

Soon Rizvi showed up on the scene wearing his red topi, standing on the street corner across from the alley as he contemplated the office building. He glanced toward the alley a few times as if he knew there was a sniper was lying there in wait for the intended target. After checking his watch, the Pakistani man puffed on a cigarette as he slowly walked to the front door of the building.

After about ten minutes, a couple left the building and stopped to talk to Rizvi. The blonde, squarely built man had his hand on the young woman's elbow as they paused before trying to move on, but Rizvi flicked his cigarette away, following them quickly. Their conversation became animated, with the two men gesturing wildly, and it was obvious they were arguing. The blonde man tried to pull the woman away, but she resisted, turning to say something angrily to the taller man, who had apparently made her very upset. Silver glanced at the sniper standing at the head of the alley. "Are you ready, Ranger? That is him...the man with Farhan. That is Grigsby."

"Yeah. I make the range a 500 meters…come on, lady...move out of the way." Booth put his eye to the scope and his finger on the trigger, ready to take out the target. "God forgive me…"

Suddenly there was a loud rumbling roar across the street, accompanied by a blinding flash of light and suffocating heat. The buildings around them swayed violently as the ground heaved upward with a shockwave, throwing brick and mortar into the alleyway as walls collapsed around them. After laying stunned for a few seconds as sheets of dust rained down on him, Booth pushed some debris away from himself and looked over at Silver. "Are you okay? What the hell was that?"

Coughing as he tried to sit up, Silver fell backwards, shuddering violently as he tried to speak over the din of noise coming from the street. Appearing to be dazed, he shook off his shock as he wiped some blood from his face. "An explosion...probably a car bomb. It appears someone else wanted to take over Farhan Rizvi's business...maybe one of his uncles or cousins followed him to this place. It would be easy to park a car loaded with explosives in front of the building and then walk away. Perhaps the bomber waited until Farhan and Amra were together to detonate the explosive...who knows?" Coughing again, he shook his head. "Are they dead?"

Sirens were blaring from all directions as first responders and police cars tried to make it through to the intersection. After quickly packing away his rifle, Booth cautiously peered around the broken wall of the alley to see what had happened, gasping in horror at the carnage.

The front facade of the three story office building had crumpled into the street with the force of the massive explosion, and casualties from the blast lay strewn everywhere along the sidewalk. The horribly disfigured body of the blonde man was laying across the broken body of the pregnant young woman, who was bleeding profusely from a devastating head wound. Another body, badly burned, was wearing what was left of red topi very much like the one Farhan Rizvi had been wearing a few moments ago. At least three other people appeared to have died in the blast, and several more were gravely injured. Panic stricken citizens were screaming and crying as they tried to help others or get help for themselves. Pieces of broken glass and and concrete sections, body parts, blood, bits of bone and burned flesh were covering the sidewalk and the street. Someone was trying to put out a fire in what was left of a car, and other people were trying to move rubble away to search for survivors.

"Yeah, I think all three of them are gone. We gotta get out of here, now! Can you walk?" Booth pushed some more material away from Silver. "We gotta go, Buddy. I don't want the locals to think we were involved in the bombing, especially since I've got a rifle…they're gonna start canvassing the area for witnesses pretty soon, and I don't need that shit. C'mon..."

"I will be fine...I can walk." Silver rubbed his eyes and coughed again as he took a few wobbly steps. "I think being in this alley shielded us from the explosion. We are lucky to be alive, but you are correct. We need to leave quickly."

Watching as two men covered the dead bodies of the blonde man and the young woman with sheets, Booth nodded. "Yeah, let's go…" He sighed to himself as he looked back over his shoulder. He wasn't the one who'd taken out Thomas Grigsby, but after seeing all the death and destruction caused by the car bomb, he almost wished he'd been the one to do so.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Clayton Moore was the man who played the Lone Ranger in the old television series._**

 ** _I will be away from home next week and will not have access to my computer, so there will not be a new chapter next week. Our story will pick up in two weeks. Thanks for reading. Laura._**


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N: here we are, back from the brief hiatus. Thank you for your continued interest in this story. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it.**_

* * *

"I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. I wish there was something I could do to assist you." Apparently bored with this discussion, Sergeant Reese folded his hands on his desk as he stoically regarded the very annoyed woman sitting across from him. "I realize how frustrated you must be since you haven't heard anything from Sergeant Major Booth for several weeks, but I'm afraid I really can't help you with the issue at this time. Unfortunately, Colonel Randall will be out of the office until after New Year's Day as he recuperates from his recent knee replacement surgery, and he can't be disturbed except for extreme emergencies such as those relating to national security. As cruel as it may seem, one soldier being out of internet range while on a mission doesn't qualify as either an emergency or as a national security issue."

"I understand that position, Sergeant." Sighing softly, Brennan pursed her lips slightly as she tried to explain her problem once again to the uncooperative man. "I certainly don't wish to interfere with the colonel's recovery period. However, I also understand that Booth has taken on a secret endeavor of some sort, and as such, the problem could be related to national security, although I suppose that tie in is rather tenuous, and not worth an interruption of the colonel's convalescence." Pensively tapping her fingers on the desk, she shrugged slightly. "Of course, I don't want to compromise Booth's safety by calling attention to him unnecessarily, and I know he wouldn't want himself to be singled out in any fashion. He would want to avoid any appearance of special treatment, and it's not like I have some vital family information to give him at this time. It isn't anything that can't wait, and I understand that the Army's regulations are in place for a very good reason." Fidgeting with the label on her water bottle, she shook her head. "All I want to know is whether or not it's normal for Booth's email account to be be unable to receive any sort of messages. In other words, I want to know why his account has been suspended. Is that also due to national security? In the past, I'd been able to send him messages via his Army account, even if he couldn't return them immediately. Now, for some reason, it appears that his account is completely blocked, and I find myself wondering if I've committed some sort of breach of protocol that prevents me from sending him email. Everything I send him is returned with an error message of some sort."

"I believe you are, perhaps, overreacting to this situation, ma'am. I know you must be worried about Sergeant Major Booth during this absence, but I can assure you that there is really no reason for concern when it comes to his email. As you;ve said yourself, it's not unusual for him to be away from his computer for an extended period of time while he's on duty." Licking his lips nervously, Reese glanced at his watch, wondering if he could make some sort of excuse to end this meeting. It was obvious that Dr. Brennan knew it was unusual for a serviceman's email account to be suspended without explanation, and she wasn't going to give up until she had achieved a resolution for her problem, but he wasn't going to put himself in a precarious position simply because of some uppity author thought she could waltz in to his office and ask a lot of nosy questions. He needed to end her interrogation as soon as possible, before he let anything slip. "The Army has a lot of computer protocols in place for their service members overseas…I'm sure this is just a case of Booth being cautious because of the sort of mission he's undertaking..."

"You may be right. Perhaps I am overreacting, Sergeant." Brennan glared pointedly at the man sitting across from her. "Perhaps there is no real reason for concern. All I'm asking for is an explanation for what has happened with the failure of the email system, because it doesn't make sense...this is not a normal occurrence. There could be a glitch somewhere that needs to be corrected…perhaps his account has been hacked. I would think you'd be concerned enough about your organization's cyber security to make sure this wasn't caused by someone who wanted to create a problem for the Army in general or for Booth in particular..."

Annoyed as he pretended to listen to Dr. Brennan's explanation, Reese once again pondered over how to handle the situation. He knew exactly what had happened to cause the lockdown on Booth's military email account, but he definitely did not want to explain his involvement with that suspension to the formidable scientist at this time. "I'm not sure why that's happening, but I can do some investigating if you'd like. I'll need to call someone who's more familiar with how our email accounts work. I'll talk to someone in our cyber offices today and instruct them to see if Sergeant Major Booth's account was accessed somehow without the Army's authorization. I'll let you know as soon as I find out whether or not there's a real issue here." Coughing softly, he tried to smile at his visitor. "However, depending on where Sergeant Major Booth is working right now, it might just be a lack of connectivity. I'm sure there's a simple explanation for this little problem, and it's probably a simple fix. I call you as soon as I know something…" Reese rose from his desk and smoothed his shirt. "If there's nothing else, Dr. Brennan…"

Brennan recognized that she was being dismissed, but she was undeterred in her questioning of Colonel Randall's aide. "I'll require some information from you soon, Sergeant Reese. If I don't hear from you within the next three days, you can plan on seeing me in your office again. I want to tell Booth's son that this issue has been resolved when I see him for the Christmas holidays. He is anxious to send his father a Christmas message, and I don't want to disappoint him. That doesn't give you much time to deal with this issue…"

"I realize that…but I assure you that I'll look into it, okay?" Reese quickly made some notes on his tablet. "There...I've got your phone number, and I've just notified Sergeant Cargill in the cyber security department that I'll be down to see her shortly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another meeting to attend." He smiled politely as he moved to open his office door. "You'll be hearing from me soon."

Hesitating slightly, Brennan finally nodded as she rose from her chair. "I certainly hope so. Call me as soon as possible."

"Of course. Goodbye." Closing the office door after Brennan left, Sergeant Reese picked up his phone from his desk and hit speed dial, tapping his foot nervously as he waited for someone to answer. "Green? Yeah, it's me. No...no, just shut the fuck up and listen! You blew it, you fucking idiot! Booth's girlfriend just left my office, demanding to know why his email account is locked down. I told you that wouldn't work, remember? You can't hide what you're doing on the internet just by shutting down email. That wasn't the way to handle it. It's not like you can just make him disappear just because he can't get email."

Pacing his office, Reese shook his head as he listened to Green's excuses. "I know you wanted to shut him down, but email doesn't go away like that. There were better ways to keep him incommunicado, you fucking jackass. You have no idea what you're doing, do you? You might as well have set off fireworks to let everyone know what was going on. I mean, who cares if Randall and Tomacek actually did receive those action reports anyway? Booth could've gone missing after he sent them." Clenching his fist in frustration, the sergeant rolled his eyes at the explanation he was hearing. "Yeah, you're right...you majorly fucked up...and now I've got to clean up your shit right away, because Dr. Brennan's not gonna let it go, okay? It's gotta be quick, so I'll have to drop everything else you wanted me to do and take care of it. She's gonna be breathing down my neck...she's gonna calle back three days from now…"

He paused, fidgeting with a paperclip as he struggled to find a solution. "Maybe I can get Cargill to help me out...no shit, genius! We absolutely do not need to involve anyone else in this project, but that's too bad now...I gotta go see her in a few minutes and fill her in on what's going on so she can fix things. She's got the hots for me, so I think I can convince her to help us out after a little quality time in the sack...anyway...you've screwed this whole thing up…so she'll have to bail us out." Swearing under his breath, the sergeant sat at his desk as he yelled at his phone. "Instead of actually suspending the account, why didn't you just tell Booth that it was closed without actually having it done? It would've been better to have somebody on the inside of this stupid project respond when he got messages instead of bouncing the messages back to the sender...Hell, I don't know...why didn't you think of that?"

Accessing his computer, Reese opened some files as he continued to rant at Green. "No, of course I didn't tell Dr. Brennan why it was suspended, but now we have another problem, don't we? You've called attention to our project with your fuckery, and now I have to make excuses for your stupid shit just to get her off my back. She's crazy smart, and she's never gonna buy my stalling, okay? You'd better get this problem with Booth taken care of immediately, before she talks to Colonel Randall about our little problem. No, I don't give a flying fuck how you do it. Just handle it...soon." Ending the call, Reese threw his phone onto his desk in disgust. He had no doubt that Dr. Brennan would be back in his office in three days, and he had no idea what he was going to tell her.

Shit was about to hit the fan...

Oooooooooo

Danny Beck cringed as the news popped up on his CIA internet feed. A car bomb had gone off on a quiet street in the middle of Peshawar, Pakistan the day before, and there had been multiple casualties. The American Embassy had been quick to point out that none of the people killed had been American citizens, but after looking at the pictures of the incident's aftermath, Danny knew better. Thomas Grigsby, aka Hazeen Orakzai, had been killed, along with his wife and her brother. _Well, I guess that cleans up Green's mess, but Booth doesn't ever use explosives...so it wasn't him that did this job, right? So where the hell is Booth?"_

Feeling a wave of nausea wash over him, Danny sat back in his chair as he stared at the computer screen. Maybe Booth wasn't in Pakistan after all...but if not, where was he? It seemed that several weeks had passed since anyone had heard from the guy…

 _What the Hell is going on? How does Green fit into all of this shit? How does Booth fit? Is he even working for Green? Maybe I made connections between them when there weren't any..._

Angrily typing on his keyboard, he pulled up the dossier he'd started on Green. Green was Grigsby's handler...Grigsby was dead...had Green arranged for the explosion? If so, how was Booth involved...or was he? Maybe Booth had nothing to do with Grigsby at all. Maybe he was in trouble somewhere else in the region...

 _Jesus...how are we gonna get Booth outta this shit if we don't know where he is?_

Closing down his computer, Danny rose from his chair and grabbed his jacket, keys, and phone. It was time for lunch, but he wasn't hungry. He needed to talk to someone first.

Sighing as he got into the elevator, he closed his eyes and sighed. It had been years since he'd even considered praying, but maybe it was time to start again. _Watch out for Booth, Lord...he's gonna need some help..._

oooooooooo

Booth sat quietly in the early morning darkness, waiting to hear his reluctant host's step on the stairs leading up to his tiny room. After both men had witnessed Thomas Grigsby's death in the car bombing yesterday morning, Silver had agreed to call Green to make arrangements for Booth's transfer back to Afghanistan. Hopefully, it would be just a matter of hours before he was on his way home. Sighing audibly as he leaned back against the wall, he watched the sun's rays begin wash over the city. He was ready to put all of this trouble behind him so he could go back to his normal life. _If things go right I'll be back at Bagram by this time tomorrow..._

Turning as he heard the curtain being brushed aside, Booth greeted Silver with a cautious smile. "Hey...good morning." Taking the plate offered to him, he began to eat his breakfast as he watched his host from the corner of his eye. "So...did you hear from Green?"

"Yes, I talked to him last night. The helicopter will pick you up late this afternoon." Silver walked over to the dirty window and looked out onto the street below. "He said to tell you that you were lucky the car bomb did the dirty work for you so you could avoid another stain on your soul."

"Yeah, that's me. I'm such a lucky bastard, ain't I?" Booth shrugged as he saw the question in his companion's eyes. "I've killed a lot of people in my line of work, Silver, and I wasn't anxious to add another guy to that list, especially if it was someone like Grigsby, who just happened to fall in love with the wrong woman. I wasn't sure he deserved killing, and I'm glad I didn't have to do it. If someone else wanted to do the job because of some goddamn family feud, well...I suppose there's nothing I can do about that. Grigsby was in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess." He sighed as he pushed the plate away. "I just want to make sure that bastard Green knows this is the last time for me."

"And, I hope, for me as well." Silver nodded in agreement as he squatted down next to Booth. "However, it may be that we have to wait until Green is dead before we are both truly free of him."

"You may be right." Booth sat quietly, watching as Silver folded some blankets and stacked them in a dark corner. "You're really afraid of him, aren't you? I mean, I hate him, but you...you're not gonna feel safe while Green's still running around somewhere..."

Silver hesitated slightly, as if trying to decide if he could trust this man he knew as Ranger. "He knows things about me...very bad things." Sighing softly, the slender man hunkered down next to the window, staring out at the street below. "When I lived in the United States, I worked for the CIA as a counterintelligence agent. I knew incriminating things about some of the mid level government officials in Musharraf's regime...things that could be used to force them to exert pressure on the Pakistani government, hoping to get the regime to do things that would benefit the US...you know, things like encouraging the Pakistani government to no longer allow the country to be a safe haven for terrorists. Basically, it was damaging material that the US could use for blackmailing the government officials of Pakistan." He turned toward Booth, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Do you understand, Ranger? It was information that could only come from a select group of individuals...people with clearance enough to get close to these men...people like me who would be willing to share what we knew with the CIA. Our identities were supposed to remain a secret...we were promised government protection by the United States." Silver sniffled slightly before he continued. "I had planned to stay in the States and maintain my contacts with the Ambassador's Office in Chicago, but, unfortunately, my elderly parents asked me to come home to assist them with their living arrangements...and then when I got here I found out they had done so at the behest of the Pakistani government, after being threatened with the loss of their home and all of their money. I lost everything, and I have no protection here. Now I am under constant surveillance by this country's secret police. They are like vultures, just waiting for me to make some sort of mistake so they can finish me. I live in constant fear. I cannot work at the sort of job I was trained to do. I can only do menial labor now, so I cannot support my family. And Green...Green was my handler for the CIA. He says that unless I cooperate with him, he will inform the authorities that I am a spy for the United States...a traitor...and you can imagine what that would mean for me and my family. So, yes...I want the man dead...or at least locked away where he can never see the light of day again…" Silver turned to Booth, his deep rooted fear visible on his face. "I will have no peace as long as he is alive…"

"Trust me, Silver. When I get back to the States, after I spend some quality time with my woman, I'm gonna make sure they take that son of a bitch off the streets." Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Booth shook his head. "There are laws about this sort of thing in the US. Some CIA agents think they can do any fucking thing they want, like they're God or something, but that's not the way it's supposed to be. There's laws against that shit, and I'm gonna make sure Green gets what's comin' to him...like at least twenty years in a federal penitentiary."

"I truly hope so. I would like that very much." Picking up the empty plate, Silver moved toward the door. "You should rest. We need to leave in a few hours."

Reaching for his bag, Booth began packing up his few belongings. "I'll be ready."

Oooooooooo

They'd left town somewhat later than what they'd originally intended, but with the city's police force still on edge because of the bombing the previous day, it couldn't be helped. It was noon as Silver turned his truck west along the main thoroughfare and sped away from the center of Peshawar. Traffic was frenetic in the city, but it lessened significantly as the truck moved toward the outlying suburban areas. After an hour, they were clear of the city proper, moving down route N5 toward the Afghanistan/Pakistan border crossing at Torkham.

The time for small talk had passed. Booth was in no mood for pleasantries as he moved closer to his rendezvous with the helicopter. All he could think about was getting home to his family. Being home with Parker on Christmas Day...spending the rest of his life with his Bones...going to see Pops in Philly for his birthday...all of those things rested on him getting home as soon as possible.

The moments ticked away slowly as the truck seemed to creep along the road. Lost in thought, Booth was surprised when Silver suddenly turned the vehicle off the main highway at the small town of Jamrud and south onto a side road.

"Where are we going? I thought you said the transfer was going to take place at that border crossing area at Torkham." Booth suddenly felt a twinge of suspicion as the truck bumped along the rutted two lane road. "You said they had a helipad there, remember? That both countries patrol the place? It'd be easy to get back to the base from there..."

Turning onto a narrow dirt track, the Pakistani man shrugged slightly. "Because we were late in leaving, there has been a change of plans, Ranger. Green was worried that a helicopter landing in the area would be too obvious, anyway...that it would raise too many questions. He wants to avoid anything that draws local attention to our movements. The landing point will be over on the other side of those hills." Pointing to the southwest, Silver put the truck in a different gear as the truck struggled with the road's steep incline. "There will be less chance of being noticed over there. He feels secrecy is most important at this time, especially because of the incident yesterday. He thinks the people at Torkham will be more observant of strangers..."

"This isn't the way we came, is it?" Booth shifted in his seat, edgy and nervous as Silver's truck continued to lurch along the rough road. "Has the rendezvous location changed? The pilot told me someone would let them know..."

"Yes. Our contact wants to avoid any sort of pattern, so this pick up point is different than the drop point. As they say in the old American Western movies, the hills have eyes, so we need to be cautious." Silver nodded toward the horizon. "We are entering Pakistani tribal lands, and there are always people watching what goes on around here. It is a lawless area...the people who live here are suspicious of visitors entering their territory." Swallowing nervously, he shook his head. "It makes me uncomfortable to spend too much time here. I feel like an intruder."

"Yeah, I get that. I do, too." Booth sat back in his seat, watching the hilly terrain pass by. "But the guys in the CIA have handled this sort of thing plenty of times, so the chopper will be in and out in a few minutes, before anyone notices it, and I'll go with them, and then you can go right back to town...and then we'll be done, right?"

"Perhaps." Seemingly unconvinced, Silver shrugged. "I know the operatives and the pilots are well trained, but I do not like feeling exposed like this, even if the exchange takes place quickly."

The truck topped a ridge and they drove down into the mouth of a small canyon. Ringed on three sides by sheer tan walls lined with scrubby vegetation, the road dropped slightly and flattened out to a space just wide enough for a large helicopter to touch down.

"A landing strip? This is a manmade spot, right? It's well hidden.", Booth said as he glanced at his driver. "You'd have to be looking for it or you'd miss it…"

"It is man made to some extent. The depression is natural, but the floor of this canyon has been improved over time. Many landings have occurred here. The Pakistani government has made several prisoner exchanges with other governments here...and they have also used this place for offering provisions to certain terrorist groups." Putting the truck in park, Silver pocketed the keys, and pulled a small pistol from the waistband of his pants, pointing it in Booth's direction. "Unfortunately, you will not be making that sort of journey today. Get out of the truck."

"What the fuck? What the hell are you doing?" Booth watched in shock as Silver used a walkie-talkie to contact the helicopter. "C'mon, man…don't double cross me like this...you'll be in even more trouble if you shoot me..."

"Shut up." The Pakistani man put the radio back in his pocket while keeping the pistol trained on Booth. "Give me your dog tags...now!"

"You don't wanna do this..." Slowly pulling his tags out from under his shirt, Booth shook his head. "The guys flying the bird are never gonna believe you're me anyway, since you're so much shorter than I am, and about forty pounds lighter. I mean, I get it...I do. After everything you've told me, I know why you don't want to stay in Pakistan anymore. There's gonna be room on the chopper for both of us, okay? You don't have to shoot me. We can both go..."

"I cannot take any chances. Pretending to be you might give me just enough time to make my escape from this hell. Once I am in the helicopter and in the air it won't make any difference who I am." Silver grabbed Booth's tags and put them around his own neck. "Leave your rifle in the truck and walk away from it. Move…quickly now..."

Booth walked about ten feet away from the truck, watching in disbelief as Silver opened the hood and took two shots at the engine with his pistol, blowing a hole in the radiator. "I can no longer stay in this country, Ranger. I am considered a traitor by my family, and it will be just a matter of time before Green will reveal my contacts with the CIA to the Pakistani government. We both know he cannot be trusted...that I will never be free of him while I stay in this country. I have no wish to harm you, but I must take your place on the helicopter when it comes. Here, you will need this." Silver tossed Booth a bottle of water before picking up the sniper rifle. "I wish things could be different. You have done everything required of you by Green, but there is no other way…I wish you nothing but the best..."

"Listen, Silver, this doesn't make sense. When you land at Bagram, they'll know for sure you're not me. You're not gonna be able to get away with this…", Booth pleaded. "C'mon...hand me the radio and let me talk to the pilot, okay? I'll tell him you helped me carry out the mission...that because you're in danger, you need to come with us. It's the right way to handle this. That way you'll be safe, and then the US government can arrange safe passage for you to the States...maybe for your family, too. If you do things this way instead, they'll arrest you, and you may never get out of the stockade. You'll never see your family again..."

"Perhaps it is not the correct way to handle things, but I will be out of this country. Being in a US prison will be much safer than what I face here in Pakistan...that is how much trouble I am in. You are right...I am leaving my family behind, but it will be better for them when I am gone. They will be safe now." Motioning with his pistol, Silver pointed toward an area further from the truck. "Go stand over there by those shrubs. I don't want the pilot to see you when the helicopter lands."

The men looked up toward the gray wintry sky as they heard the sound of the helicopter's rotors getting louder above the hills. Soon the pilot's voice was heard over the radio. "Lone Ranger, this is Tonto. Do you copy? Over."

Bringing the radio up to his mouth, Silver answered. "Lone Ranger here, Tonto. I copy. Do you see the landing pad, over?"

"Roger that, Lone Ranger. Be there in five, over."

"Roger. I will be here, over." Silver turned to Booth. "I promise you this...when I get to Bagram, I will tell them to come back to look for you, Ranger."

"A helluva lot of good that will do, you fucking bastard. I'll be stuck out here in the middle of the tribal lands of Pakistan in the wintertime. By the time anyone tries to look for me, I'll be dead of exposure if I don't starve to death or have a run in with one of the locals..." Booth was grim as he watched the helicopter approach. "We still can work this out, Silver…call them and see if they have room for two passengers..."

"I cannot take the chance that they will say no.", Silver yelled as the helicopter landed. "I am sorry…" Crouching low, he ran quickly toward the helicopter, scrambling in through the open door.

Watching helplessly as the chopper rose through the sky, Booth was startled as he felt a loud, shuddering _whoomph_ come from one of the canyon rims above and behind him. _Is that a rocket propelled grenade? Mother of God!_ _No…please, no…_

He watched in horror as the surface to air projectile sped toward the helicopter, hitting it squarely where the tail joined the cockpit, shearing most of the tail away from the aircraft. Spinning wildly out of control above the canyon walls, the chopper finally crashed nose first just over the north rim of the little canyon and exploded, bursting into flames.

The helicopter's impact was tremendous, knocking Booth off his feet as it burst into a fireball. Stunned, he quickly crawled away, trying to push himself back against the canyon's southern wall, hoping he was invisible to the person who'd shot the helicopter out of the sky from the ledge above him.

Shaking uncontrollably as he watched the copter burn, he panted heavily as he tried to reconcile what had just happened. He'd been basically left for dead in the middle of an unfriendly area of Pakistan, miles away from any town, with no food, no shelter, and only one bottle of water. On the other hand...he looked up toward the ridge where the remains of the helicopter were going up in flames...if he'd been on the helicopter, he'd be dead right now.

Either way, he'd been royally screwed. Booth tried to focus his thoughts, wondering if this was Green's doing, or if Silver had been acting on his own...not that it made any difference. The main thing right now was to disappear…to get out of sight as soon as possible, so that when someone came to check out the wreckage of the helicopter and the abandoned truck, they wouldn't find him there. Glancing up at the sun, which was low in the sky and sinking rapidly, Booth looked for a place to spend the night...a place to hide. He wouldn't be able to get away from the canyon in the dark. That would have to wait until tomorrow.

Hunger was gnawing at his stomach, but that would have to wait as well. Taking a swallow of water, he capped it and stuck the bottle in his jacket pocket. There was no way to make a fire, and that wouldn't be a good thing to do anyway. _No need to call attention to myself right now._ He quickly ran to the truck to retrieve his extra clothing, looking hurriedly through the cab to see if there was anything useful before loping away to find a cave or a crevice where he could hide. By concentrating on his survival, he might be able to get through the night.

Booth paused as he looked up at the darkening skies, offering a prayer for the lives lost on the helicopter and asking for the Lord for help as he tried to survive. After being marooned in the wildest part of Pakistan, he was going to need all the help he could get.

Oooooooooo

The news was on in the background as Angela and Brennan chatted over their lunch, discussing what Sergeant Reese had said about Booth's email account.

"So he said he didn't know what was going on? That's ridiculous. Reese has to know what's going on. All he has to do is make a phone call to someone in IT. I think he was just giving you the brush off." Angela shook her head over her sandwich. "Jackass…"

"Actually, Angela, I'm very intelligent, and I have only a rudimentary understanding of how email works. I believe it's quite possible that he doesn't understand what's happening with Booth's account. What I didn't appreciate was his dismissive attitude towards me...as if he couldn't be bothered to help me. Of course, with Colonel Randall being on medical leave, I know he's very busy, but still...anyway, he's supposed to call me in the next few days…" Brennan paused as Angela's phone rang.

"Hey, Hodgins...no, we haven't really been watching the news. Hang on just a minute." Angela turned up the sound on the television. "A helicopter accident? Where…" Closing her eyes, she bit her lip as she turned to Brennan. "I think your wild theories are running amok, but, yes, I'll tell her. Love you." Turning off the television, she slumped in her chair, exhaling softly. "Wow…"

"Angela? What's wrong?" Brennan stared at her friend's shocked expression. "Tell me…please..."

"That story on the news...there was a helicopter crash in Pakistan two days ago, near the border with Afghanistan. A US Army helicopter carrying three people went off course somehow and crashed into the rim of a canyon wall. There were no survivors." Angela took a deep breath as she reached for Brennan's hand, dreading what she had to say next. "Apparently, one of the casualties was an Army Ranger. According to the flight plan, the crew was supposed to pick a Ranger in Pakistan and take him back to Bagram. The locals reported the crash, but you know...it'll take time for everything to get sorted out…who exactly was on the helicopter…where exactly it went down..."

"And Hodgins thinks...it was...no. I don't believe it." Brennan shook her head resolutely. "Have the dead been officially identified yet?"

"I don't know, Sweetie. I'm not even sure how much of the wreckage they've recovered yet. Listen, you know Hodgins and his crazy theories. I bet it's just a coincidence…" Angela shrugged. "We don't know for sure Booth was even in that area…"

"You're right. We don't." Brennan's hand trembled as she sipped her tea. "It might not be him. However, we also have to be realistic, Angela. It is also possible that it was Booth who was killed in the crash. As hard as it is to believe, I suppose that is a logical extension of the situation. How soon will they know? Have they recovered the bodies yet? Maybe I should offer my services to the Army in order to expedite the identification of the remains..."

"I guess they'll complete the recovery within the next few days." Angela put her arm around Brennan and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Brennan, let's look at this logically, okay? Booth is not the only Army Ranger stationed in that part of the world, right? There could be any number of men who fit that scenario. No matter who it is, it's unfortunate that they were killed, but the fact that it was a Ranger doesn't automatically mean it was Booth."

Trying to remain stoic, Brennan hesitated for a few seconds. "You are correct, Angela. It may be someone else. I suppose I'm so used to focusing on Booth that I didn't fully consider the other possibilities." Blinking back her tears, she gazed at her friend. "But what if it is him, Angela?"

Angela tried to smile as she looked into her friend's eyes. "Well, as my dad says, Sweetie...no use in borrowing trouble. I tell you what...do you want to stay with me for a couple of days...at least until they know for sure who it is?"

Brennan's brows knit as she thought over Angela's suggestion. "No…thank you.", Brennan whispered. "I think I'd rather go home."

"Okay. Call me when you get there." Angela watched as her best friend picked up her purse and jacket while she struggled to remain calm. "Let me know whenever you hear something." Giving Brennan a hug, Angela placed her hands on her friend's shoulders. "Hey, listen...you're not alone in this, okay? You've got me and Hodgins…"

"I know. I will...call you...later.'' Walking out to her car, Brennan unlocked the door and climbed inside before allowing her tears to fall.

"This is irrational.", she sniffled. "I don't know for sure that Booth was involved in that helicopter crash, and yet I feel quite emotional." Trying to be hopeful, she wiped her eyes before she put her car in gear and pulled out Angela's driveway. "Please, Booth...I need you to come home soon…."


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N: I know we're all upset that Booth is stranded in Pakistan. Trust me, he won't be stuck for too much longer, but first the good guys have to figure out exactly where he is...I know it's hard to be patient when we care about our characters, but things will work out. Laura**_

* * *

Brennan spent the next few days trying to keep herself occupied, confident that she could sufficiently compartmentalize her emotions as she put the finishing touches on her manuscript and prepared to return to work at the Jeffersonian after the Christmas holidays. Much to her growing irritation, however, as she found herself more and more focused on her worry over Booth's safety, she'd also found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else for more than a few minutes at a time, and sleep had become elusive. As illogical as it seemed to her normally well ordered mind, time was apparently passing at an agonizingly slow pace as she waited for any further news about who had died in that helicopter crash in Pakistan.

As she thought over the timeline for the recovery operation, she'd estimated that several hours had passed after radio contact was lost with the helicopter, as the Army tried to determine whether or not it had actually been destroyed. Even after the downing of the aircraft had been confirmed, there would still be several more hours of work to be done by various agencies of the US government before anything else could happen. In order to be able to mount a recovery operation for the copter, some sort of believable story would need to be constructed as to the reason it was flying over Pakistan's airspace in the first place. Then, after the Army had informed the Pakistani government about the suspected loss of a military aircraft within their borders, it would take that government's officials at least two days, and probably more, to locate the helicopter crash site in the remote foothills of the tribal lands, a day or two more to investigate the wreckage and to remove the bodies, and then another day to move the bodies to a city where the remains could be processed and arrangements made for their return to the American base in Bagram. It didn't help matters that the timeline was dependent on the tentative cooperation between two governmental entities that didn't always see eye to eye, as well as any local officials in the tribal areas that would need to be notified about the possible incursions into their territory. All of those factors taken together meant it would take at least a week until a positive ID was made on the casualties...at least a week, and most likely more, without knowing if Booth was still alive or if he was dead.

Too restless to stay home and contemplate all the dreadful possibilities, Brennan decided to go for a long drive in order to clear her head, but before she realized what was happening she found herself on the street where Booth's apartment was located. Feeling slightly awkward, she parked in front of the liquor store and took the stairs up to his home.

As soon as she entered the front door she was awash in memories triggered by the faint traces of his distinctive scent which still remained in the rooms. Aimlessly wandering through the apartment, she stopped suddenly, disconcerted when she saw an envelope propped up on his kitchen table.

 _To:Temperance Brennan_

 _To be opened in the event of my death._

 _Seeley Booth_

She turned the envelope over and ran her fingers across the flap, tempted to open it, but it seemed to her that if she did, it would be like admitting that Booth was actually dead. Scolding herself for succumbing to such silly superstition, she gingerly set it back on the table and shook her head. She wouldn't open it today...she wouldn't open it unless she knew for sure that he hadn't survived the crash.

She went into the living room and sat down on the couch, fondly remembering the last time she'd been there. She'd gone to Rigoletto's with Booth and Parker, and Booth had officially asked her to be his girlfriend. She had been confused by his request at first, that romantic connection between them having already been established, but she soon realized it was a pleasant ruse designed to make his son happy. After taking Parker home, they'd come back to his apartment and watched some old romantic movie before going to bed to make love for hours. It had been such a pleasant evening, but now it seemed like it was years ago. The thought that she might never again be able to have that sort of ordinary domesticity with Booth was overwhelming. She didn't want to grieve a loss she wasn't certain of, but the tears began to roll down her cheek before she could stop them.

She'd experienced this feeling once before, when she'd been told that Booth had died after being shot at that nightclub several years ago. The same numbness was drowning her...the shock, the horror, the disbelief. Clenching her jaw, she tamped down those feelings, refusing to give in to them. She had no proof that he had died, and without proof, she had to allow herself to hope, or she'd sink beneath the weight of her own uncertainty. She had to be strong. Straightening her shoulders, she brushed away her tears. Crying wouldn't help anything right now. No matter what occurred, she would be strong, just like always...because that's what Booth would expect her to do. He'd often said that he wanted her to move on if something happened to him, but she hoped she wouldn't be put in the position of making that decision.

Yawning as she leaned back against the soft upholstery, she quickly became drowsy, so she stretched out on the cushions, hoping to finally get some sleep. Soon she'd drifted off, dreaming about the man she loved.

oooooooooo

Captain Jarvis was busy helping the newly arrived chaplain move into his office. "Where do you want me to put this box, Father Koralek?" Wiping her hand across her perspiring brow, she smiled warmly at him. "I can't tell you how glad...and how relieved...I am that we finally have a Roman Catholic chaplain here on the base, Greg. I've been trying to fill in as best I can, but nothing beats the real deal."

"Glad I can be of service." The young priest smiled back as he pointed to the corner of his tiny office. "You can put that carton over there. It's just books." Taking the lid from a large plastic container on his desk, he removed his embroidered stole and the box holding his traveling altar and communion kit. "This is the most important part of my stuff. I'll be ready to celebrate Mass for the camp tomorrow afternoon. I'll send out an all base email later today inviting everybody..."

He paused as his companion answered her phone. "Captain Jarvis…"

"This is Corporal Rizzo, ma'am, over at the mortuary hut. The casualties from that chopper crash last week were finally released by the Pakistanis and they've arrived here at the morgue." The soldier cleared his throat, sighing softly as he continued. "As you know, ma'am, it was CWO Perkins and Tech Sergeant Mulhall flying the bird, and because they were listed on the flight plan as the guys assigned to that detail, we were able to establish without a doubt that they were both killed in that accident. Problem is, ma'am, we have another body here, and his dog tags say he's a Roman Catholic." Rizzo cleared his throat and paused slightly. "You said we were getting a new Catholic chaplain this week, Captain, so if he's here already, maybe he can come over here to say some prayers for Sergeant Major Booth..."

"Sergeant Major Booth? Oh, my God." Captain Jarvis felt like she might vomit as her stomach lurched violently. Inhaling deeply as she felt her knees go weak, she tried to calm herself, gripping the back of a chair tightly as she continued. "Yes, um...the new chaplain just got here. We'll be over there as soon as we can." Ending the call, she shoved her phone in her pocket, hoping to control her emotions as she spoke to her new coworker. Exhaling slowly, she bit her trembling lip, choking back her sobs. "They need us at the mortuary building, Father...one of the casualties that came in from Pakistan this morning was Catholic...and the attendant thought...you might want...to know...so you could...pray for him..."

"Of course." Gathering up the necessary items, the priest was grim as he watched Captain Jarvis try to blink back her tears. "I take it you knew the man…"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. He came to the office a week or so ago to make his confession before he left on what he said was a dangerous mission, but Father LeMont had already left for Germany." Jarvis wiped her eyes with a tissue. "The guy made a real impression on me, you know? He was so worried about doing the right thing...so worried about the state of his soul. He had some real misgivings about the mission he was going on, and with good reason, it seems." Jarvis sniffled as she ran the back of her hand across her eyes. "I did the best I could, Greg, listening to what Booth had to say and praying with him...you know, all the basic chaplain jazz, but as an Episcopal priest, I couldn't give him the same absolution that the Catholic Church gives. I couldn't give him that comfort…and now he's gone. Oh, Sweet Jesus...", she sobbed. "He was such a fine man, Greg…he was so...brave...so...strong in his faith..."

"Oh, Sally…I'm sorry.", the priest began softly as he rubbed her shoulder gently to console her. "I know you did the right thing for him...praying with him...sharing the love of God and His forgiveness with the man. No worries, okay? I'm sure the Lord is looking after your Sergeant Major…" He held the door open for her. "Let's go pray for him, alright?"

They took a jeep across the compound, driving along silently until they reached the building that housed the mortuary services. Knocking on the door, they were greeted by Corporal Rizzo. After offering the officers a salute, the young man nodded sadly. "Right this way, ma'am...Father." He led them down a narrow hall toward an examination room. Pushing the door open, he glanced at the chaplains. "He's in here. It's bad, you know, since there was an explosion and a real hot fire with the crash. I'm sorry…" Rizzo's voice faded away as he pointed to the sheet covered remains, which were laid out on a stainless steel table. "Here's his dog tags..."

Father Koralek kissed the cross on the back of his stole before he placed it around his neck, and then he took a vial of holy water from his kit. Turning to Rizzo, he pointed at the remains. "Pull back the sheet, Corporal, so I can pray for this man."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Father…" Rizzo grimaced as he stood next to the table, blocking the priest's way. "It's pretty gruesome. The body was fragmented and badly burned in the crash. Trust me...it's nothing you need to see..."

"Since when do you think it's a good idea to question the direct order from a superior officer?" Captain Jarvis stepped up to the table and glared at the young man. "Father Koralek holds the rank of captain, just like I do, Corporal. Do as the chaplain says, Rizzo. Remove that drape."

Captain Koralek nodded solemnly as he moved toward the body. "Listen, Corporal Rizzo, I know you're trying to protect me, but it isn't necessary. I was a chaplain at a busy hospital in the worst part of Chicago before I enlisted in the Army. All sorts of horrible injuries came through that ER...car accidents, fires, drug overdoses, beatings, gunshot wounds...some of the worst stuff you can imagine, so I can handle it, okay? This man's remains need to be treated with respect, no matter how damaged they are…and I'm gonna pray for him whether you like it or not, so do as I say...now!"

Sighing audibly, the attendant turned toward the table. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you, Father." Rizzo pulled the sheet away from the charred remains and after rolling it up, he put in on a nearby counter. "There was a lot of trauma to this body…it looks like all that's left here is mostly just bits of flesh stuck to some of the bones. We laid out the skeleton as best we could from what was left of him...the goddamn Pakistanis had him all jumbled up in the body bag they'd used to transport him. I'm not even sure we got all of him back, you know?"

Moving to anoint the remains without so much as batting an eye, Father Koralek blessed himself with the sign of the cross and began to pray for the repose of the decedent's soul. Captain Jarvis tried to bow in prayer as well, but, distracted by the remains, she clenched her jaw nervously as she studied the battered corpse laid out before her.

"Something's not right here, Corporal." She stepped closer to the table and bent down to inspect the remains. "This table's about seven feet long, right?" Seeing Rizzo nod in cautious agreement, she continued. "This body is way too small to be Booth. Booth is over six feet tall and muscular. I'd say this man was 5'7'' at the most when he was alive, and his skeleton isn't robust enough to support Booth's muscle mass."

"But the dog tags, ma'am...they clearly identify this man as Sergeant Major Seeley Booth…", Rizzo stammered. "It's gotta be him…and, like I said, the body was heavily damaged in the crash and then it was just dumped in a bag for transport. This guy was practically torn in half by the helicopter's impact. Anyway, how can you judge his height from what's left..."

"See this femur here? That's how I know. I was an orthopedist's surgical nurse for six years before I went to seminary, Corporal. I know what I'm talking about." Captain Jarvis stood with her hands on her hips as she glared at the mortuary attendant. "Listen here...I don't give a damn what those fucking dog tags say, Rizzo. I'm not at all convinced this body is actually that of Sergeant Major Booth. You get Booth's dental records or his X rays and medical records, or whatever else you might need to make a positive identification on this corpse, and you check again, and then you get Captain Klein over here to check those records as well. That's an order, Rizzo. Why are you standing around? Get busy...on the double, Corporal! I'm almost positive this isn't Booth, so now we have to figure out who this man is, and where Booth is. We're wasting time we haven't got, so go! NOW!"

"Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am." Giving the officers a sloppy salute, Rizzo tore out of the room in a hurry as he went to find the medical records he needed.

Captain Jarvis turned to the new chaplain, hoping to control the rush of feelings which threatened to overwhelm her. "I guess this was a false alarm, Greg. I'm sorry I dragged you out of the office on your first day for no good reason. I don't think this man is actually who the Army says he is…"

"Maybe not, Sally, but I'm going to pray for him anyway, as long as I'm here." Nodding as he anointed the body on the table and then making the sign of the cross over the deceased, Father Koralek sighed. "I'm glad this isn't your friend Sergeant Booth, Sally. I wonder if we'll ever find out who this man was. I imagine somebody will miss him, and they may never know what happened to him…"

"I know, Greg...I know." Captain Jarvis bowed her head once again as they prayed for the repose of the man laid out on the table before them. "I hope his family will find peace someday."

oooooooooo

"Thanks for coming with me, Angela." Brennan fidgeted slightly in her chair as she looked around the drab waiting room. "I don't know what to think…"

"I'm glad I could be of help." Angela tenderly patted Brennan's arm. "I know you're nervous, Sweetie, but look at it this way, okay? If they knew for sure Booth had died in the crash, the Army would've sent a detail to your apartment to inform you of his death instead of asking you to come here. Booth has listed you as the person who should be notified, right?"

"I think so. I mean, he said he was going to do that the day he added me as a signee to his bank account." Brennan grimaced slightly as she looked at the date on her phone. "That reminds me...I need to check the status of his bills…" She chewed the inside of her lip and shrugged, realizing that Angela wouldn't understand what she meant. "He said if he was delayed for some reason, he wanted me to pay his bills for him. I guess I should go ahead and do that so he won't have to worry about it...when he comes home..." Brennan's voice faded away as she blinked back a tear. "I told him I'd take care of things for him while he was gone..."

"Of course. That's a good idea.", Angela agreed, realizing that Brennan needed something to focus on other than Booth being missing. "Anyway, since Colonel Randall wanted you to come to his office to discuss things, that means they probably have some news, but they must think Booth is alive, right?" Angela smiled weakly, hoping to convince herself that what she was explaining to her friend was the actual truth. "Try not to fret…"

Sergeant Reese cleared his throat as he came into the waiting room. "Dr. Brennan? Colonel Randall will see you now…"

"Thank you." The two women entered the austere office and were greeted by the tall, lean colonel as he rose from behind his desk, reaching out to shake hands with his visitors.

"Dr. Brennan...thank you for coming. I know this has been a terribly frustrating situation for you. You must be quite upset."

"Yes, you are correct. It's quite upsetting and very frustrating." Nodding nervously, Brennan pointed to her companion. "This is Angela Montenegro. She's here…"

"...for moral support." Angela took Brennan's hand in hers. "I'm her best friend. I didn't think she should be alone right now."

Seeing the officer's wary surprise, Brennan quickly explained. "Anything you need to tell me can be said in front of Angela. She has the same security clearance as I do. Besides, I'd end up telling her everything anyway."

"I see. Well, have a seat. Would you ladies like some water?" Leaning on his cane as he moved to a small refrigerator, he removed some bottles and set them on his desk. "I'm still a bit hobbled by my knee surgery, but I didn't want to wait any longer to meet with you." Randall eased into his chair and opened his bottle, taking a slow drink as if to gather his thoughts. "I'm not sure where exactly to begin, so I'm just gonna dive in, okay? If you have any questions, go ahead and ask, and I'll do my best to answer them." Seeing Brennan nod, he continued slowly. "As I'm sure you've heard, we had a chopper go down in Pakistan not too long ago…"

"Yes, I know. The news agencies reported three deaths in the crash." Brennan closed her eyes and sighed softly before continuing. "Was Booth...one of them?"

"Well, based on what we know right now, it doesn't look like it." Colonel Randall paused slightly to let his news sink in. "We knew who the pilot and the copilot were, because, of course, they were assigned to the flight detail. Their identities were never in question. However, the situation soon became complicated, because when the third body was found in the wreckage, he had Booth's dog tags around his neck."

"But if he had Booth's dog tags...I don't understand." Shaking her head, Brennan tried to make sense of what the colonel was telling her. "Booth would never give up his dog tags...unless…"

Colonel Randall raised his hand slightly to interrupt. "I know...I'm not sure what to tell you about that right now, Dr. Brennan, but here's what we do know for sure. It turns out one of the Army chaplains who was called when the bodies came into the morgue had met Booth while he was stationed there at Bagram, and when she saw the body they'd identified as Booth based on the dog tags, she didn't think it was him. I guess she had the mortuary attendant running around that base like crazy trying to find medical and dental records to back up her claim, but turns out she was right, and the base hospital's chief of staff has concurred with her assessment. As a matter of fact, he used some of the techniques you've developed for the Army to use in identifying unknown casualties." Colonel Randall took another sip of his water. "The guy in the morgue was way too small to be Booth. We now know for certain that Sergeant Major Booth was not present on the helicopter when it went down."

"That's good news, isn't it, Sweetie?" Angela clasped Brennan's hand gently. "Booth's not dead…"

"We don't know that for sure, Angela. All we know for sure is that he wasn't killed in the helicopter crash." Brennan was grim as she eyed the officer sitting across from her. "Do you have any idea where Booth might be, Colonel Randall? Do you know for certain that he's still alive?"

"Not really, no..." The man ran his fingers through his short grizzled hair, clearly frustrated by his inability to provide solid evidence to his visitors. "...although we were able to trace some of his movements over the last several weeks." He inhaled deeply, pursing his lips slightly before he continued. "What I'm about to tell you is top secret, but given your past work for the Army, Dr. Brennan, I feel I can trust in your discretion." Seeing that she and Angela both understood, he continued. "You may have heard about the assassination of an Afghan warlord last month. As you probably have already surmised, that was Booth's doing. He returned to Bagram as soon as his task was completed, because his spotter had been severely wounded in the incident."

"Booth sent me an email saying he'd be successful, and that he'd be home soon." Brennan glanced at Angela. "That was the last email I received from his military email account." She hesitated slightly, deciding not to mention the other message she'd received from him. "That email account has been suspended, it appears...even Ms. Montenegro, with all of her computer expertise, can't get that account to work. I visited with Sergeant Reese a few days ago, hoping to find out what the problem is, but to no avail."

"Well, I guess that explains one mystery. I never got Booth's action report from his most recent assignment, either." The colonel made a quick note on his tablet. "I'll instruct Reese to check into the email account problem again." Looking through his notes, the colonel continued. "Booth's spotter was going to be sent to Ramstein a few days later for follow up care, and the hospital's staff at Bagram reported seeing Booth while he was visiting the man the day before he was to supposed to leave for Germany, and then early the next morning, when the spotter was actually shipped out. Unfortunately, I can't find an accurate record of the spotter's name. It says here the guy is named 'Johnson', but for reasons I can't divulge, I have my doubts as to the veracity of that statement. Major Evans has chosen not to cooperate in this investigation. I've got a call in to Major Tomacek, since he was the officer who'd made the original arrangements to get the spotter to assist Booth, but he's with a division on survival maneuvers and so he can't be contacted until later this month. In addition, the medical staff at Ramstein won't provide me any information on the guy that was sent to them since technically I'm not his commanding officer...some sort of stupid goddamn federal privacy regs, similar to HIPPA, you know. They won't even tell me what is says on his dog tags until I get a letter from the Secretary of the Army giving me permission to have that information, and then only with the man's personal okey-dokey. Unfortunately, it seems he's been under some pretty heavy sedation right now, and his wife doesn't want to sign the waiver without asking him what he thinks about the deal. It seems no matter which way I go in this investigation, I hit a brick wall." Colonel Randall grimaced in disgust. "Some of that famous Army red tape, you know? Although, this thing seems to be more fucked up than normal...if you'll pardon my French, ma'am...a helluva lot more fucked up than I'd expect it to be under the circumstances." Blushing slightly, the colonel cleared his throat. "Look, what I'm saying is that it seems like someone went out of their way to keep me in the dark on this matter…"

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Who is Major Evans?" Brennan's brow furrowed as she listened to the colonel's explanation. "Major Tomacek was his commanding officer in Germany…"

"Evans was Booth's commanding officer at Bagram. He remembers seeing Booth when he came back from his assignment in Afghanistan, but he won't give us anything else to go on." Randall nervously tapped his fingers on his desk, averting his eyes from his visitors. "Unfortunately, Major Evans is in the Bagram stockade as we speak, waiting to be brought back to the States for a court martial. An anonymous tip has led the JAG office to find a stash of child pornography on his work computer…"

"Oh, dear God…", Angela muttered, looking as if she might vomit.

"But what does this have to do with Booth?" Brennan's mounting frustration was evident as she leaned forward in her chair. "Please, Colonel…I have to know..."

"Major Evans said that Booth left everything in his quarters when he disappeared...computer, clothes, everything. He believes Booth went AWOL to avoid disciplinary action connected to defying the orders of a superior officer…"

"That's ridiculous! Booth would never do that!" Clearly horrified, Brennan sprang from her seat and began to pace the room. "I can't believe he'd go AWOL…not for something like that. If he felt he had reason to defy orders, he'd stay and defend himself. He'd explain his point of view, not run away."

"I don't believe it either, Dr. Brennan." Colonel Randall offered an apologetic shrug. "I've known Booth for many years, and I'd trust him with my life. He's not defiant without a very good reason, and I know he's not a guy who'd go AWOL." Checking his notes again, he offered up a faint smile. "I know you want evidence, Dr. Brennan, so here's some. I called Captain Jarvis, the chaplain who knows Booth, to thank her for her assistance in determining that the deceased was not our man, and that woman gave me a very loud, very long, and very angry earful, all about how Booth had been coerced into taking an assignment that made him feel extremely uncomfortable. He had serious doubts about taking out the target he'd been assigned. Problem is, he didn't tell her where he was going or who wanted him to do the deed."

Standing with her arms folded across her chest, Brennan glared angrily at the officer, throwing her hands up as she launched into a loud tirade. "How does that help us? We're no closer to finding him than before…I might as well go to Pakistan myself and look for him if this is all the information you have, Colonel...this is a waste of time. We have nothing to go on...he could be injured somewhere and we can't find him. That's it...I'm going to book a flight to Islamabad immediately..."

"Sweetie, you know that's not really practical, right? Look, I know you're upset, but Colonel Randall is trying to help you, okay? Come sit down." Angela patted the seat of the chair next to her. "Please?"

Reluctantly complying, Brennan eased herself into her seat. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being difficult, but…"

"It's perfectly understandable, Dr. Brennan. I know you care deeply about Booth, and I know how much he cares about you." Randall pulled up a picture on his tablet and handed it to her. "Please remember that our conversation isn't to be shared outside this room. Did you hear about the recent car bombing in Peshawar?"

"Yes." She glanced at the picture and handed it back to him, suspicious about where this line of inquiry was going. "Why?"

"Because one of the men who was killed in that incident was, in reality, a CIA operative who'd gone over to the other side. It's possible that Booth was sent into Pakistan to take out the agent..."

"But Booth's a sniper. He doesn't use explosives, does he? At least not to my knowledge." Now thoroughly confused, Brennan sighed heavily as she sank back into her chair. "That doesn't make any sense…"

"True, he normally doesn't use explosives...but right now, it's all we have to go on. Our best guess at this time is that Booth was in Peshawar, Pakistan sometime over the last few weeks, and that's how his dog tags ended up in the area."

"But you don't know if he's there now, and you don't know if he's still alive. Given that someone else had his tags, it doesn't look good, does it, Colonel?", Brennan whispered. "We have to be realistic..."

Setting his tablet aside, Colonel Randall folded his hands on his desk and gazed at the two women sitting across from him. "Maybe not, Dr. Brennan, but I know this...Booth is a damn fine Ranger. He's intelligent, well trained, resourceful, and physically fit. If anyone could get out of a situation like this, it'd be Booth. I also know that the Army will not stop looking for him until we find him, one way or the other. We will bring Booth home, Dr. Brennan. I promise you that."

"I'm not sure you'll be able to keep that promise, Colonel Randall. Pakistan is a large country with a lot of wild frontier to search. With no way to locate him…no way to narrow your search..." Brennan brushed away a tear. "I appreciate your efforts, but…I'm not sure what comfort I can derive from this conversation. Your information is nebulous at best..."

"We're already in contact with the Pakistani government, because we want to know why that bird went down in the first place. We've asked them to check into any rumors they might hear about an American being in the area. Hopefully, we'll get a hit on his location soon, and when we do, we'll go pick him up. Don't give up hope just yet, Dr. Brennan. The Army won't rest until we have him back. I guarantee it."

"Yes, thank you." Rising from her chair, Brennan struggled to maintain her composure. "I'll be in touch." She quickly moved to the door and left the room, with Angela close at her heels.

Turning back to the colonel, Angela smiled sadly. "We appreciate your time, Colonel...I know this is hard on you, too…"

"No problem. After all, in a way it's my fault Booth is in this mess, so I'm gonna do whatever it takes to clear things up." Waving as Angela slipped out the door, Colonel Randall grumbled in frustration as he picked up his phone. "Reese...get your goddamn ass in here…NOW!"

"Yes. sir!" Surprised at the abrupt summons, Reese double timed it to his commanding officer's office. Breathless, he stood in the doorway and saluted. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, I did. Sergeant Reese, Dr. Brennan mentioned that she'd told you personally about the apparent blackout of Sergeant Major Booth's email. Have you looked into the problem?" Looking up from his desk, Colonel Randall scowled at the younger man. "Well? Speak up!"

"No, sir, not yet. I've been busy…with other things...", Reese stammered as he shifted from one foot to the other. "It didn't seem like a high priority at the time…just a minor annoyance or a computer glitch...like maybe he was just out of range or something..."

"That's what I thought, too, at first, but now I'm not so sure. I think you knew that lockdown of his account was deliberate, and you tried to sweep it under the rug, right? It was suspended without the correct command authorization, wasn't it? You did it all on your own, without going through proper channels. My question now is why you did it." Drumming his fingers on his desk, Randall stared angrily at his aide. "You've got 24 hours to get this mess taken care of, Sergeant. I need to know what's going on with that account immediately. It's not just a family matter any more. Military information of a highly secretive nature has been locked down inside that account as well. I need that action report on the warlord's assassination so I can send it on to the guys up top. They want proof that the job was done right, and I'm not going to let you make me look bad, okay?" Nodding his head as he eyed Reese suspiciously, Randall continued. "My guess is that you've known what the problem is with that goddamn email account for a couple of weeks now. I bet it's something I wasn't supposed to find out about since I'm technically still on medical leave...something you were trying to hide from me. You were the one who ordered it to be locked down, and you thought you'd have it back up and running before I found out about it, right? But Dr. Brennan wouldn't let it go."

"No, sir...not really, sir.", the sergeant replied nervously. "I mean, I was assured by Sergeant Cargill in the Cyber Affairs Department that it would be fixed quickly, so I assumed it had been taken care of already. I'm not sure why they haven't done so…" Reese tugged at his shirt collar. "She said it would only take a couple of hours…"

"Well, I'm pretty sure if I call down to Cyber, they'll tell me that you never made inquiries into the matter to begin with, other than to order the account's suspension." Obviously furious, the older man glared at his aide. "I don't appreciate finding out that shit like this is going on behind my back, Reese, especially when it affects the men under my command." Sitting back in his chair, Colonel Randall was practically snarling. "Did you really think I'd be gone six weeks without checking up on things in the office, Sergeant? I've been keeping tabs on on what goes on around here from my lil' ol' laptop while I've been recuperating in my recliner, and guess what I found out? You've got a lot of shit to hide. You know what happened with Booth's account because you've been involved in some sort of cover up...and maybe Cargill is, too. Hell, you might even know where Booth is now, right? So now I'm giving you a deadline to get things cleared up. 24 hours from right now...you got that? And then the shit hits the fan…" Waving his hand to dismiss Reese, the colonel stiffly rose from his chair. "Oh...by the way...you can expect a full review of your actions in this matter, Sergeant. If I'm right about what happened, you'll be hearing from the JAG office about your court martial within the next few weeks."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." Backing out of the office, Sergeant Reese slumped against the wall outside the door. _Just like that bastard Green to leave me swinging in the wind like this…_

Thinking about how his military career was about to end in disgrace, Reese pulled out his phone and left another desperate message for John Green, hoping things could be fixed before the dam burst and they were all drowned in problems of their own making.


	22. Chapter 22

**_A/N: We are past the halfway point of our story, and things will be soon be working towards the conclusion. I'm asking for a bit of indulgence...please be patient as we wait for to get Booth home. It'll happen soon...but we have to tie up some loose ends first. Thanks. Laura._**

* * *

John Green smiled smugly as he settled into a plush upholstered chair in the VIP lounge of the Islamabad airport. It was time to leave Pakistan for good, and being completely amoral, he was quite pleased with himself and with the way the events of the last few weeks had played out in that nasty little corner of the world. Almost all of his goals had been accomplished, and it seemed like all of his tracks had been erased. No one would be able to trace anything back to him or his organization. He was quite confident that the people who had hired him to handle this project on the sly would also be very pleased with his success.

He silently ticked off the items on his mission's to-do list. _Grigsby's dead, along with two of the major players in the illegal arms trade in Pakistan, and all because of a lucky car bombing by an unknown terrorist group, which means no link to me or to the Company._ Check. _The loss of that leadership among the illegal arms manufacturers in the area will cause the other dealers to fight over the customers left behind by their deaths, and that will weaken everybody's business. There will be a civil war of sorts between the different factions...lots of backbiting and infighting...a violent implosion of sorts...and they'll end up wiping each other out, leaving room for someone new to take over the business._ Check. _Booth was killed in a helicopter crash, and Silver will be dead soon, once his cover is blown. I've already started that project in motion...the Pakistani secret police will be getting my anonymous letter about Silver's activities any day now._ Check. _Evans is in the stockade because of my 'anonymous' tip about his taste for child pornography, and no one will believe anything he says about me having something to do with planning Booth's mission to take out Grigsby. He'll end up spending a very long time in the federal prison at Leavenworth._ Check. _Reese will probably also end up there, too, after his court martial, for tampering with federal email and other sensitive government documents, and for violating numerous cyber security protocols._ Check. _And I'm on my way to collect what's due to me...a nice fat bonus...and there's nothing to trace it back to me..._

Overall, things had gone well...actually, much better than he'd expected, given all the details that had to be handled and all the moving parts that were involved. Green sipped his tea as he gazed out the window at the planes rolling down the runways. The operation had started out as a clusterfuck, but things were infinitely better now, and he was glad it was all behind him. _Time to move on to something new...and hopefully just as profitable..._

The only small flaw in the execution of the plan had been that Booth's spotter from the original Afghanistan mission had been shipped out to Ramstein base in Germany before he could be dealt with, but the man was still in bad shape from his wound and would probably be heavily sedated for quite some time, so that little issue could wait a couple of weeks. When Master Sergeant Smith was finally able to be removed to the US, he'd start his rehab at Walter Reed in DC, and then eventually he'd be sent to convalesce in his small hometown in Texas, where the problem could be more easily handled. After all, with Green's connections, it wouldn't be too hard to make it look like Smith had been doing illicit bookkeeping for some Islamic terrorist cell that his mother had been running from her computer as she sat at her kitchen table. People in Smith's hometown were probably suspicious of "those people" anyway, and it wouldn't take too much effort to plant the seeds of doubt among the locals...enough suspicion for the Company's shadow operatives to help those seeds of doubt quickly grow into a forest of inflammatory rumors...enough doubt to convince the locals that the guy was actually a crazed Muslim madman out to permanently sabotage their country and their Christian way of life. Then, after stirring the pot a little bit, all they had to do was to sit back and wait for someone to suspect Smith of some sort of unspecified criminal activities and turn him into the Feds. Every red blooded Texan in Abilene would be willing to do their bit for the war on terrorism, right? A few items of planted information here and there, and, if Green was fortunate, the guy would get arrested and then end up safely stashed in some solitary confinement cell at Gitmo, far away from anyone who could vouch for his personal integrity or his patriotism. Smith would have to wait years for his trial...until finally everyone forgot who he was, or had given up wondering where he'd disappeared to... _Bye-bye, Smith...too bad for your wife and kids...they'll miss you when you're gone, I guess..._

That was a problem for another day, however. As it was now, John Green was booked on a flight from Islamabad to Kashgar, China, under the alias of Rick Carothers. His new clients were very interested in using the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor as a route to smuggle their own illegally produced weapons into Pakistan once their competition in Dara Adam Khel had been greatly reduced or, with any luck, eliminated entirely. The Chinese arms dealers were quite adept at 'borrowing' technology from many foreign sources and using it for their own purposes. They could easily mass produce a variety of cheap knock off weapons, but the trade sanctions imposed by more 'respectable' organizations had made it difficult for them to sell their wares legally on the open market. They had to find another way to get their goods into circulation, and whether or not it was legal wasn't really all that important. _They just needed me to get them in the back door...for a price, of course...and, of course, being the good guy I am, I was glad to help them..._

Because Green was familiar with the area, the Chinese had offered him a handsome reward for smoothing out the various bumps and snags which might be encountered along the way in Pakistan, and, considering the large bribe they'd offered, he'd been happy to oblige. It didn't make much difference to him that the official US government stance had been to ignore the Chinese entrepreneurs in hopes that they'd simply go away. In this case, he was running the operation for his Chinese clients under the table. The less his organization knew about what was going on with this project, the better off he'd be. Operating as a free agent was frowned upon by the big boys, but, since the offer was so lucrative, Green just couldn't turn it down, even though it meant he'd eventually have to sever his ties with the Company.

The plan had been simple, really. Green had been Grigsby's handler. When the idiot had decided to follow his heart and marry the daughter of an arms manufacturer, he'd signed his own death warrant, which happened to coincide nicely with Green's little side job for the Chinese. The idea was to kill two birds with one sniper's bullet...no more Grigsby, and a civil war of sorts among the arms manufacturers in Dara Adam Khel as the daughter's family sought revenge, trying to figure out who was responsible for the man's death. The Chinese were patient, willing to wait as long as necessary to move in, but the offer of a generous bonus if events happened sooner instead of later was all Green needed to put matters in motion.

Knowing how much Booth valued his friends and family, it had been easy to coerce him to take the job of snuffing the rogue agent, and that had made the end of Grigsby a no brainer. Of course, in the end, it was all for naught, since Grigsby had been killed by some terrorist's bomb instead, but it was still a good plan, and Green was pleased to know he hadn't lost his touch...he could still get people to do what he wanted simply by applying the right amount of leverage. He chuckled to himself as he checked his phone. It didn't make any difference how it happened, did it? Both men were dead now, and he didn't even have to get his hands dirty. _Nothing to tie them to me..._

The hardest part of the whole plot had been finding someone to take down the chopper that was supposed to ferry Booth back to Bagram, but after flashing some cash in the tiny villages around the makeshift airstrip, he'd found a couple of volunteers willing to do the job for fifty rupees or so, on the condition that they could keep the weapon. That was no skin off Green's ass. He didn't want the grenade launcher to be traced back to him anyway.

So for a very small investment in time and money, he'd gotten rid of one of his life's major irritants with Booth's death. Now all Green had to do was to meet with his clients in China to collect the three million dollar fee for his services. Soon he'd be living with a new name in a nice little house on a quiet beach in the Dominican Republic, and no one would ever be able to find him again. He was used to making himself disappear, and the organization would never be able to touch him there. He'd finally be free.

He finished his tea and smirked to himself. _It's almost too bad about Booth. The guy was an upright, decent, honest man, wasn't he? That poor sucker worked so hard all of his life, and what did it get him? Shot out of the sky like a fucking pigeon…_ Picking up his briefcase as his flight was announced, Green felt a sense of satisfaction as he moved to board the plane. _It just goes to show...good guys always finish last._

Ooooooooo

It was right before sunrise when Booth's eyes flew open as he was suddenly jolted awake by something nearby. He lay silently, trembling violently in the little crevice where he'd wedged himself the night before, wanting to avoid too much exposure to the harsh elements, once again praying that he wouldn't die from the cold as temperatures dropped during the frigid night. His senses were on high alert, tingling sharply as his brain tried to make sense of his surroundings, wondering what had startled him out of his restless sleep. Inhaling deeply, he worked to control the wild beating of his heart. He had to remain calm...his survival depended on it.

Cautiously peering over the jagged edge of a rock, he almost laughed out loud at the large black bird that had landed a few feet away from him. Cocking its head to one side, the bird pecked at some sort of insect before peering curiously at him and noisily flying away.

 _Yeah...that must've been what I heard…_ Trying to relax, he willed himself to slow his respiration rate. _I'm okay...it was just a bird...just a goddamn bird._

He groaned as he sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and craning his sore neck from side to side to relieve his stiffness. He'd been on the move for almost a week, but he could still remember every single detail of that first morning after the helicopter crash all those days ago…

*/*/*/*/*/*/*

That morning's sky had just barely turned from dark gray to pale blue as the sunlight crept over the canyon rim. There was still an acrid, hazy film of smoke hanging over the area, smelling of burnt rubber, spilled aviation fuel, and charred human remains. Grimacing as he coughed quietly, Booth had slowly edged down the opposite sloping rock face toward the canyon floor.

Most of the canyon was still in the shadows, and even after his exertion, he'd shivered with the intense cold that morning. Beating his arms against his chest, he'd walked over toward the rim across from his previous position to look up at where the helicopter's wreckage lay, still smoldering after the fireball that had so completely engulfed it. _By now they must know they've lost their bird,_ Booth thought to himself. _They've lost contact with it, so they know something's wrong, but Command will have to contact the Pakistani government in Islamabad to get permission for recovery operations in the tribal frontier. I wonder how long that'll take…I wonder if I can wait for them to get here...would I even be safe?_

He'd considered his options carefully. If he stayed in the immediate area, there was a good chance that he'd be rescued by the team sent to recover the wreckage, but given all the details that would have to be worked out beforehand, who knew how long that would take? Even with a flight plan on file, if there was a plan in this sort of 'off the record' operation, being able to pinpoint the exact spot where the chopper went down would take time, even if the location transponder was still working, and he had few provisions available to survive for the week or two it might take before the actual recovery could begin.

Then there was the problem of who'd actually taken down the helicopter. Who were they, and were they still hanging around on the canyon rim above him, hoping to scavenge things from the crash scene later today? Where could he hide? He had to remain out of sight, if at all possible. _They sure as Hell won't be glad to see me hanging around…they'll be in no mood to help…I'm unarmed...I'd be a dead man...Jesus, I'm a sitting duck out here..._

As he pulled his jacket closer to his chest, it almost seemed like he could feel the unseen eyes boring into his back, watching him...following his every movement as he walked along the shaded canyon floor...just waiting to take a shot at him if they could. Finally, after much deliberation, he realized he had no choice. He had to leave the area as soon as he could. There was no time to worry about where he was going...it just had to be away from that canyon as quickly as possible, before someone came to dig through the twisted wreckage above him.

He'd run back down the length of the canyon and found the sloping place where he'd made his way down to the floor. Soon that wall of the canyon would be in bright sunshine, and he'd be exposed to anyone willing to take a shot at him. Panic was starting to overtake him. He had to leave the area around the crash site as soon as he could. _I gotta get outta here...gotta get away...I can't let them find me..._

After scrambling up the rock face, Booth jogged to the disabled truck and searched through it one more time, trying to find anything that might help him survive the wild and dangerous conditions of the Pakistani tribal frontier. After rummaging through the glove box and the area under the seats of the battered vehicle, he found a broken screwdriver, a couple of rags, some old road maps, a pencil stub, and an empty gas can. Nothing of much use, but he was pleased when he remembered that Silver had taken the sniper rifle with him as he'd run to the helicopter, but he'd left Booth's pack in the truck. Quickly unzipping it, Booth was relieved to find that his two MREs were still there, as well as three small packages of peanuts, a couple of water purification tablets, and his emergency mylar survival blanket. Even though the blanket was shiny silver on one side, the bronze and tan camo pattern on the other side just might blend enough into the dusty rocks of the Pakistani hills to provide him some cover from prying eyes. His knife was also still in the bottom of the pack, as well as an extra tee shirt, a hooded sweatshirt, and an extra pair of socks. _But no pistol...I wonder what the bastard did with it..._

Booth quickly stuffed one of the maps, the rags and the screwdriver down into the pack, along with the water bottle Silver had left with him. Scribbling a quick note on another map, he placed in back in the glove box. _Maybe someone will see it...like a message in a bottle...it's a long shot but I gotta try..._

After one last glance at the remains of the chopper, he blessed himself, praying for the souls of the men that were killed. Sighing as he quickly walked away from the truck, he prayed for himself as well as he tried to follow the truck tracks away from the canyon, hoping he'd be able to trace them out to the edge of the main highway.

 _Nothing to do now but walk outta here, I guess...maybe I can find the highway and follow it part of the way...but the terrain is so damn hilly...that's just crazy, ain't it? I can't walk all the way to Torkham, can I? It's a fucking crazy idea. But what else am I gonna do? Maybe catch a ride somehow? I don't know, but I gotta go...I just gotta put one foot in front of the other...gotta keep moving away from here. I gotta get home...gotta see my Bones…_

*/*/*/*/*/*

Booth nodded to himself, rubbing his arms as he tried to warm up in the first rays of light that edged up the face of the rock. That decision to leave the crash site had been made almost a week ago, according to the small notches on the strap of Booth's pack. It was a trick he'd learned long ago when he'd first become a Ranger...if he could keep track of the days somehow, it made him feel more focused on the task at hand. Today, he mostly needed to focus on staying alive, just like yesterday, and all the days before that. He was going to focus on making a little more progress today and on staying out of trouble, so he could get home to his Bones in one piece.

Having a goal and having a plan to achieve that goal...that was driving Booth as he pushed himself out of the rocky crevice where he'd been sleeping for the past few hours. He quickly folded up his lightweight blanket and shoved it into his pack, looking around to make sure he'd left nothing behind. He groaned as he stood up, wondering if his back would ever be the same after this adventure, but there was no time to worry about right now. He needed to get moving...he needed to keep working towards his goal of reaching the border crossing at Torkham, Afghanistan. If he could walk a few miles today, he'd be that much closer to getting home, and he'd have fewer miles to walk tomorrow. _I'm a Ranger...I've had survival training, and I can cover ground efficiently. I can set my pace at three miles an hour for as many hours as I can go…and I'll be in Torkham before I know it._

Unfortunately, the lack of food and water had thrown a monkey wrench in that plan. Groaning as he stood up, he tried to ignore his hunger as his stomach growled noisily. He'd been parceling out small portions of the MREs over the last few days, but they were just about gone, as were the peanuts. He'd rationed his water as well, taking a tiny sip once in the morning and once at night. He'd managed to fill his water bottle from the community water pump in tiny village late one night, but that place was behind him by a two days' walk now, and he needed to keep moving forward.

He winced as he stood up, his feet complaining mightily at the torture he was putting them through. His boots were painfully tight on his swollen feet, but he knew if he took his boots off to relieve the pain, there was a good chance he wouldn't be able to get them back on over the edema that had built up over the last few days. He had to keep moving...through all the pain, he had to keep pressing forward. That was his goal...to move a little bit closer to the border crossing with Afghanistan every day.

The only good news, if it could be called that, was that the temperatures in the surrounding foothills had been unseasonably warm, dropping down to the upper thirties at night. His survival blanket and jacket had kept him somewhat warm and dry, even if they hadn't offered much cushioning as he slept. However, the weather in the area was notorious for changing at the drop of a hat, and Booth figured his luck on that front would run out almost any day. _I gotta be getting close, right? Any day now...I should be there soon...I gotta keep moving...it's gonna get cold again soon and I don't want to be caught out here..._

He cautiously looked at his surroundings as he edged along the rock face, searching out the weak rays of sunlight as they peeked above the eastern horizon. Without a compass, he'd relied on the sun and the stars to find his way north to the border between Pakistan's tribal lands and Afghanistan. As long as he could keep the morning sun on his right, he knew he'd be heading in a generally northern direction toward the border crossing.

This late in the year, the sun seemed to just barely creep up into the sky before giving up and setting again in the west. The daylight hours were few, and Booth was beginning to feel that he hadn't made much headway. It was frustrating, but he knew he had to keep going, day after day, putting one foot in front of the other until he got home to his Bones. _One more step...then another step...and one more after that...one little bit at a time...even a small amount of progress is a small victory…can't give in to my fear. I gotta keep going._ His love for his beautiful Bones was what kept him going. He was determined that nothing was going to keep him away from her ever again. _She's waiting for me, and, God willing, I'm gonna run into her arms next time I see her..._

He'd also developed a sort of routine for the cold, gloomy darkness of the frontier's nights. As the sun's rays faded and the stars appeared in the sky, he'd search for the constellations of Cassiopeia and the Big Bear, _Ursa Major,_ using them as a guide toward the north until he was too tired to go any further. Then he'd look for some place to hide so he could sleep a few hours before starting out again.

He couldn't help but smile as he remembered laying out on the hood of the rental car with Bones in the middle of the New Mexico desert after working a case in Roswell, looking up at all the bright stars and constellations in the inky sky. There was no other source of light, and the horizon seemed to be filled with thousands of stars. She was an excellent storyteller, vividly sharing the mythology associated with each of the patterns in the sky. It had been such a pleasant evening...so peaceful...almost magical...just the two of them, enjoying each other's company in the middle of nowhere... _Jesus...how long ago was that? It seems like a lifetime ago…I miss her so much._

After zipping his pack, he glanced at his watch, and suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Could the date really be right? Maybe his watch wasn't working. With everything that had happened over the last two weeks, he'd lost track of the date. _That can't be right...Dec 17...Jesus...I guess I'm not gonna make it home for Christmas, am I?_ Biting his lip to control the onslaught of anger and grief as he thought of what he'd be missing, he brushed away a tear. He'd wanted to be home so badly this year, to share the holidays with the people he loved, but it probably wasn't gonna happen. _John Green is gonna pay for this...by God, if I get out of this shitstorm, I'm gonna hunt him down and kick his sorry ass all the way down to Hell._

At the present, however, there was nothing to be done except to survive for another day. He picked up his meager belongings and headed down the hill to a small stream that meandered through the valley. The water looked to be fairly clean, so he'd fill his water bottle and maybe even try to snag a small fish or two for his breakfast.

It was then he realized why he'd woken with such a start. He could hear the soft echo of voices from the base of the rock face, several feet below his position. Someone...maybe several someones...were in the immediate area, calling to each other in the local dialect Booth's heart skipped a beat as he flattened himself against the ridge. _Shit!_ _Have they seen me?_

It made no sense to be afraid...he knew that. He should be anxious to get help from someone...anyone...but in his fear and panic...in his fatigue and hunger, he'd decided against making contact with anyone in the area, thinking he'd be safer that way, especially since he had no real way to defend himself. It would be obvious to any of the locals that he didn't belong there, and he had no way of explaining to them why he, an American, was out wandering alone in the tribal lands. _The Army thinks I'm dead...they won't be looking for me, right? It must be someone else those guys are after..._

His heart was pounding as he hunkered down, stretching his neck as he tried to see who was below him. He needed to run...to get away...nowhere to hide…panic was overtaking him once again. His heart felt like it might explode in his chest. _I have to get out of here...I can't let them find me...gotta go...Jesus..._

As he quickly turned to leave, he dislodged a large rock with his boot and sent it tumbling down the hill. The voices below him suddenly stopped for a few seconds...and then quickly took up again. Louder this time...agitated...they were getting closer. He had to flee…

Shouldering his pack, he tried to crawl along the face of the rock to reach the way he'd climbed up to his hiding spot, but the voices were all around him now. _Are they even real? Have I lost my mind? I have to run..._

He winced in pain as he banged his left knee on a jagged rock, biting his tongue to keep from crying out. He could feel the warm blood trickling down his leg underneath his pants. Hobbled now, he dragged his leg behind him as he tried to move away…

"Halt!", the voice cried out in English. "Don't move…" Dressed in the customary loose linen shirt and pants of the area, the turban clad man pointed a rifle at Booth. "Turn around." Seeing Booth's hesitation, the man gestured with his gun. "Come with me…"

Holding up his hands in surrender, Booth tried to smile. "Friend?", he began in Pashto, hoping the man would have at least a cursory understanding to the language, given how close they were to the Afghan border.

The man seemed confused as he shook his head. Pointing down to the voices below him, he glared at Booth. "You come with us...now."

"Yeah, right." Shrugging in defeat, Booth puffed out a sigh as he dropped his pack. There was nothing to do now but comply. "Okay, let's go."

Oooooooooo

Sighing softly, Brennan hesitated as she stood on the front porch of Rebecca's house. It was an terribly awkward situation, but she knew it couldn't be avoided any longer. Straightening her shoulders resolutely, she reached out and rang the doorbell.

Opening the door, Rebecca offered a weak smile as she welcomed her guest. "I'm glad you could make it, Temperance. I know it's inconvenient to find time for this sort of thing, with it being so close to the holidays…"

"It's no trouble, Rebecca. I'm glad we could work out a time." Sitting down in an armchair, Brennan was uncomfortable as she looked around the brightly decorated room. "Have you heard anything more from Colonel Randall?"

"No...just what he told you, I suppose. Seeley is still considered missing in action." Rebecca choked back a sob as she sat opposite of her visitor. "It's so hard, knowing what to tell Parker. I don't want to lie to him...or to give him false hope. I can't tell him everything is going to be okay if I don't know that for sure…but I have to say something..."

"I understand." Brennan reached out to take Rebecca's hand. "Perhaps you could tell him that his father has been unavoidably delayed, omitting any other details. That is the truth…"

Sniffling, Rebecca nodded. "I suppose that would work." Making an effort to put on a happy expression, she pointed to the large bag of packages on the floor next to Brennan. "Are all of those things for Parker?"

Shrugging sheepishly, Brennan smiled faintly. "Yes. Booth gave me quite an extensive list of items from which to choose. Not having a son myself, I was unsure of exactly which things Parker would prefer…

Rebecca laughed quietly. "Oh, my. You didn't buy everything on the list, did you? Seeley tends to go overboard at Christmas…"

"That may be true, but it's his favorite holiday. It's also possible he was concerned about being gone over Christmas, and maybe this was a way for him to compensate for that…"

"Yeah, that would be something he'd do. It's just like him..." Sniffling as she wiped away her tears, Rebecca slumped back against the chair. "I can't believe this is happening...that he's...you know...that he may not be able to come back home."

Biting her lip, Brennan struggled to maintain her composure as she ran her fingers across the arm of her chair. "We have no evidence pointing to Booth's demise, Rebecca. We do know he wasn't killed in the helicopter crash. The Army has him listed as missing…"

"And what are they doing about that?" Glaring at Brennan, Rebecca finally gave in to her rage. "How can the Army possibly justify searching that whole area of Pakistan for just one soldier...especially one soldier who probably shouldn't have been there to begin with? Why did he even take on this stupid mission in the first place? Wasn't he thinking of anyone else? Was he even thinking about how it would affect Parker if something happened to him? The whole thing is just so awful, isn't it? But, of course, Seeley didn't consider any of us…he never does. It's always about what he wants to do." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the tear rolling down Brennan's cheek. "I'm sorry.", she whispered. "I'm...I'm just upset. I know how hard this has been for you, too...I should have been more considerate…I know you love him..."

"It's alright...it's been an emotional time for everyone." Brennan shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Is Parker here? I'd like to speak with him before I leave…"

"He should be here any minute...he went to a friend's birthday party and one of the other parents is bringing him home." Rebecca shrugged as she rubbed her bloodshot eyes. "I'm trying to keep things as normal as possible for him, so he won't worry about his father…"

"Of course." Fidgeting with her jacket buttons, the anthropologist tried to smile. "I sent some packages to Booth's grandfather as well. He wanted to make sure his Pops had a good Christmas, too."

"Seeley loves his Pops. Thank you for doing that…It was a very thoughtful thing to do." Rebecca shifted nervously in her seat. "Um...about the Parker's child support…"

"Oh, you probably don't know, do you? Booth asked me to be a signer on his checking account. It's my understanding that he gave you a check for Parker's support before he left, but I'll be able to write you another check in January if necessary…he was very concerned about maintaining his child support payments."

"That's good to know. Seeley is a good man, Temperance." Rebecca reached over to pat Brennan's hand. "I know he loves you very much. He has for a long time."

"I know he does...I'm glad we were able to finally come to terms with what we've felt for each other before he left. No matter what happens, I'll always have that…"

She paused as Parker came racing through the front door. "Dr. Bones! I'm so happy to see you! Have you talked to my dad? Are those packages for me?"

"Yes, these packages are for you." Brennan reached out to give the boy a hug. "Your father had quite an extensive list of items he wished me to purchase. However, it isn't Christmas yet, so I believe your mother will want you to wait before opening any of them."

"Oh." Disappointed, a glum Parker slumped onto the couch. "So did Dad say when he was coming home?"

"I haven't heard from him in several weeks, Parker, but the last time he sent me a message, he said he'd be home as soon as he could." Glancing at Rebecca, Brennan raised an eyebrow as she nodded at the pile of packages.

"I think it might be alright for you to pick out one package to open now, Parker…", his mother said. "...but you'll have to wait until Christmas Day to open the rest."

"Yay!" Picking out a large box, he quickly tore away the paper. "Cool! A remote control car! I can't wait to try it out…"

"You need to tell Dr. Brennan thank you, Parker. She's the one who did your father's Christmas shopping."

He threw his arms around Brennan and kissed her cheek. "Thank you. Hey, Mom...do we got any batteries?"

"I don't know...we'll have to look…"

Rising from the sofa, Brennan picked up her purse and jacket. "I need to go...I hope you both have a Merry Christmas." She reached out to take Rebecca's hand. "If I hear anything, I'll let you know."

"Me, too. Thanks again, Temperance. Merry Christmas."

Brennan walked down the porch steps quickly, just making it to her car before her tears started to fall. "I may never have a Merry Christmas again…"


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: thanks for the reviews. We are getting closer to our conclusion as more loose ends get tied up.**_

* * *

The US Army jeep bounced up the narrow dusty road early one chilly afternoon in the middle of December, followed closely by a large truck emblazoned with the Army's logo. The jeep's passenger scratched his head as he stared at his tablet. "According to the intel here, the crash site must be up over the top of this hill…we've gotta be close..."

"Whatever you say, sir." The driver nodded patiently as he put the jeep into a lower gear to make the steep ascent. "It might've been easier to come up here on mules." He gritted his teeth as the jeep's transmission groaned under the strain. "This fucking road is awful…it's practically straight up..."

"There it is." Lieutenant Gaines pointed ahead of them. "See? Off to the left up there? Man, this goddamn map is useless...we must've driven past this place a dozen times already…"

"Well, it doesn't help that we don't speak the same goddamn language, right, sir? We don't speak Urdu and they don't speak plain English, I guess." Corporal Thomas grinned at the young officer next to him. "I'm sure that had something to do with it...and that's probably why it took so long to get the approval from the Pakistanis to begin the recovery in the first place. Anyway, it looks like we're almost there now, Lieutenant." He nodded over his shoulder. "Is the truck coming?"

Turning slightly in his seat, the officer nodded. "Yeah...it'll be up here in a minute. Anyway, the Pakistanis said they collected the bodies and left the rest of the stuff for us to look through, but it sure doesn't look like there's a helluva lot of debris left lying around, does it? Especially considering a chopper that size. Those Apaches are big suckers, you know? I imagine there was probably a whole herd of local scavengers that looked through that shit long before we got here." Gaines checked his tablet again before using it to take pictures of the surrounding area. "Command mostly wants to know if we can figure out what brought her down...you know, if it was mechanical failure or something else…like maybe a surface to air round of some sort."

"Okay, so we need to try and find the flight recorder, right?" As the jeep topped the hill, Thomas felt his stomach lurch, horrified as he saw the pile of blackened, twisted metal in front of them. "Jesus, sir...that's all that's left of it? Shit…this is really bad...really...fucking...bad..."

"Yeah, I know. When I talked to the attendant at the Bagram mortuary, he said the corpses that had been brought in from the crash were in really bad shape. In fact, one of the guys had even been misidentified because he was almost completely incinerated." Clearing his throat as he gazed on the horrible wreckage, the lieutenant shook his head. "Look, let's just concentrate on doing our job, okay? We're gonna do the recovery of the equipment and take what we can back to the base, and then maybe we can figure out what happened to cause this accident."

"Yeah, okay, Lieutenant...we'll just do our job." Parking the jeep, the corporal and the lieutenant got out and walked toward the wreck. "God...even with all the time that's passed, it still smells like aviation fuel around here...must've caught the vegetation on fire, too. Look at those scorch marks."

"It looks to me like the chopper broke apart before impact. There's part of the tail section over there...and here's the rest of it over this way...and over there is what's left of the cabin." Gaines turned to the men who had just arrived in the truck. "Okay, listen up. The Pakistani government has assured us that they've removed all of the human remains from the wreckage, but this is a huge fucking mess, so it's possible they've missed something. If you find anything that you think might fall into that category, even if you're not really sure what it is, we'll put it in one of these containers and label it…" He held up a large ziplock bag. "...and then we'll let the guys back at the base sort it out. The most important things to look for are the black box and the transponder. Hopefully the locals haven't walked off with them by now. I'd also like to take back as much of the engine and the cabin's equipment, especially the avionics, as we can get on the truck. Got it?" The soldiers all nodded in agreement. "Fine. Let's get to work."

The team worked quietly for an hour, pausing now and then to load materials into the back of the truck or to take a drink of water. Corporal Thomas tipped back his water bottle as he walked to the canyon's rim, admiring the ingenuity that had turned this natural box canyon into a hidden landing strip. _Just big enough for a large chopper to set down...and there's no evidence that they bumped the rim on the way out…that didn't cause the crash..._

He scanned the opposite rim of the canyon, sighing sadly to himself as the horror of what had probably happened welled up inside of him. Anyone standing on that side of the canyon would've had a clear shot, and could've easily taken the copter down with an RPG. _Yeah...that's probably what happened, right? Those poor fellas flying the bird didn't have a fucking chance…_

Turning to get back to work, Thomas was surprised as he caught a glint of reflected light from down below the rim. "What the hell is that? Hey, Lieutenant...come take a look. Is that a vehicle of some sort down there?"

"Sure looks like it." Gaines squinted at the area below them. "We'd better take the jeep and go check it out."

It took a few minutes before Corporal Thomas could figure out how to get down to the road leading to the mouth of the canyon, but soon the jeep was parked next to the old truck. The men approached the vehicle cautiously, unsure if it was booby trapped.

After circling the truck a few times, Thomas shrugged. "Whaddya think, Lieutenant? Is it okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Hey, did you see this?" He pointed to the open hood. "Somebody blew two holes in the engine...judging from the size, they probably used a handgun of some sort, but I don't see it laying around here…" Gaines opened the door on the driver's side and reached toward the ignition. "Hmm...no keys." He opened the glove box and pulled out the papers that had been stuffed in there. "I think this truck has been pretty well picked over by the locals, too. Not much here...just some old road maps and a broken screw driver. Look at this, Corporal." He unfolded the map and held up it up to show his driver. "We're about here, I think...this map is a helluva lot easier to read than the shit on my tablet. Let's take it with us. I bet nobody'll care, right?"

"Prob'ly not. I guess if they'd wanted that shit, they would've taken it with them already." Checking his watch, Corporal Thomas began to grow fidgety. "You know, sir, with the days being so short this time of year, we don't have a lot of daylight left. We should probably go back up to the crash site to work for a couple more hours…"

"You're right, Corporal. Well, I guess there's nothing else to see here." Gaines grabbed the map and slammed the truck door shut. "Let's go back up the hill."

"You got it, sir." Climbing into the jeep, the two soldiers went back to the crash site.

Oooooooooo

Thoroughly exhausted from the day's recovery work, Lieutenant Gaines struggled to get comfortable on his lumpy pallet. It had been late in the afternoon when they'd left the crash site, and he'd estimated they had at least another day's work ahead of them.

Because they'd worked so long that day, they'd had to drive back to the small town of Jamrud to find a place to stay for the night, and pickings were slim at best when it came to rooms for rent for a recovery team of that size. No one in town was anxious to have a big group of American soldiers stay in their place of business. After flashing a wad of rupees, Gaines had finally convinced a local farmer to let them park the vehicles so they could crash in one of the mud brick outbuildings. _So here we are...us and the goddamn chickens in this hellhole. Jesus...we gotta do better than this tomorrow...maybe we can finish early and make it back to Bagram by dinner tomorrow evening..._

He decided to check his paper map to look for an alternate route. _Yeah, that's right, folks...I'm gonna go old school...computers are great unless you don't have electricity._ Grinning to himself, he grabbed the nearby battery operated lantern and shone it on the page. "Okay…", he muttered to himself. "We're at Jamrud...the crash site is about 35 miles southwest of here…"

Folding the map so it was easier to handle, he traced the line of the main road from Peshawar to Torkham. "57 kilometers...35 miles between those two cities. So if we don't finish tomorrow we can probably drive up there to the border to stay the night...it's a bigger city and probably has better facilities...hey…what's this?" Surprised, Gaines looked closer at the pencil markings on the map's border. "Wait...that's English…what the fucking hell..." Tilting the map toward the lantern, he tried to read the words, which had obviously been written in a hurry.

 _Dec. 11. My name is Sergeant Major Seeley Booth, US Army 75th Regiment. I was stranded in Pakistan without transportation after completing a special assignment. I'm currently heading north towards Torkham on foot. Tell the Consulate in Peshawar that I am alive and in need of assistance._

"Son of a bitch…stranded on the 11th? That was a week ago..." Cursing out loud, Gaines shook his head in shock. _What kind of idiot thinks they can walk from the goddamn middle of nowhere all the way to Torkham?_ _No fucking way…_ After reading the note again, he realized he had an answer of sorts. _This Booth fella is a Ranger._.. _it'd be just a stroll in the park for one of those guys, right? They think they're fucking indestructible..._

Stunned at what he'd just read, he reached for his tablet so he could take a picture of the note. He didn't have much power left on his battery, and there was almost no reception in the area, but he was determined to email it to the American Embassies in both Peshawar and Islamabad as quickly as he could. The sooner the staff at the embassies knew what was going on, the sooner they could organize a search party for the sergeant major.

Reading the note again, Gaines drew a heavy sigh as he put away the map. _I just hope we're not too late..._

Oooooooooo

Booth knew it wasn't going to do any good to fight with his captors, not that he could even if he'd wanted to. After a week of being exposed to the elements without enough food or water to sustain his strength, he was in no shape to argue with the four armed men that stood in front of him. He held up his hands in surrender, and a brief bit of regret crossed his mind as they stepped toward him. _This is it...I'm gonna die, and Bones won't ever find out what happened to me…_

The man who appeared to be the leader of the quartet gave a hand signal, and the other three lowered their rifles. He gestured at Booth, miming for the Ranger to put his hands together in front of him, and then bound his wrists together with some narrow strips of cloth. "You come."

"What? Where are we going? Look, fellas, hear me out. I'm no threat..."

Ignoring Booth's words, one of the four picked up his pack, and two others flanked him on either side as they slowly worked their way down the side of the rock face until they came to the place where an old truck was parked. The leader pointed to the open truck bed and then back at Booth.

Unsure of what was happening, Booth tried once again to make himself understood in a combination of English and one of the local dialects. "I'm a friend, okay? I don't mean any harm. I just got lost…there aren't a lot of road signs around here, you know, and I forgot my map..."

Shaking his head, the man in charge glared at Booth and pointed again at the truck. "You...now."

Two of the men dragged him up into the truck bed, sitting him on the floor between them as the other two climbed into the truck's cab. The truck stuttered to life, and they proceeded down a rutted gravel road toward the main highway.

As he watched the dusty scenery go by, Booth focused his energy on being calm. _I don't know what these guys want, but I guess if they were gonna kill me, they would've done it by now. They could've just left my body back there, and nobody would ever have found me._

He warily eyed the men sitting stiffly next to him, their hands resting on the military style rifles on their laps. They were both young...early twenties at the most. _I guess they could be Pakistani militia of some sort, but they're not wearing uniforms. I must've crossed into some tribal leader's territory and this is the welcoming committee…well, Hell...that's just great, ain't it…but at least I'm still alive…_

The truck bumped quickly along, crossing the main road as it headed away from the sunrise. Judging by how far the sun was above the horizon, it was still early morning. _We've been traveling for about an hour...I wonder where we're going..._

Famished, dehydrated, and exhausted, there was nothing Booth could do except to wonder about how much trouble he'd gotten himself into this time. He shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable on the floor of the battered truck bed, much to the irritation of the young men sitting on either side of him. "Sorry…", he muttered, chuckling quietly as he wondered why he bothered to apologize when it appeared they didn't speak the same language.

Glancing at the man sitting to his right, he pointed at a plastic water bottle. "Hey, can I have a drink? You know..." He lifted his bound hands to his mouth. "Thirsty…"

The two guards looked at each other as if trying to decide what to do. After a minute or so, the man uncapped the bottle and poured a small amount of water into Booth's mouth.

"Thanks." Leaning back against the truck, he tried to smile. "You guys speak any English? Maybe we could have a little chat...you know? Just to kill the time? Maybe we can play 'I Spy with My Little Eye'..."

Stone faced, both men shook their heads in irritation and stared off into the distance.

"I guess that means no." Shrugging, Booth pretended to laugh loudly. "I don't speak any of your language either, but I bet we all like the same things, right? Pretty girls...a good meal. Hey, you guys married? Got any kids? I got a son...maybe you can untie my hands and I can show you a picture...hey, I know...let's talk about sports. You guys like hockey? Water polo? Maybe you can explain soccer to me...that game's just crazy, you know? Chasing some fucking ball around a big field like that..."

The two young men continued to ignore Booth's random chatter as they drove along. _Good...well, I've tried to provoke them, but nothing's happened. I'm gonna take that as if it's nothing personal that they picked me up. They're not looking to end me...at least not right away. Most likely they're gonna ask for some ransom first…they want to see how much they can get for an American soldier…_

After another half hour or so, the truck crossed the perimeter of a small cluster of buildings surrounding a walled compound. Seeing the relieved expressions of the men sitting next to him, Booth nodded. "Looks like we're home, huh? I hope we're in time for lunch...I'm kinda hungry."

The truck stopped at a small one story building just inside the wall. As the driver turned off the engine, the young men in the rear of the truck gestured for Booth to jump down from the truck's bed.

He eyed the building cautiously. "So this is the hotel I'm gonna be staying at? I gotta say...I was hoping for three stars, but I guess I can't be choosy right now, huh?"

The man who'd been driving the truck came around to the back of the vehicle, pointing to the building's doorway as he spoke to Booth. "In." He placed a firm hand on Booth's arm as if to prevent the Ranger's escape. "Food...water...yes?"

"Yeah." Surprised by that welcome development, Booth shrugged as he stepped out of the winter's sunlight into the cold, dark building. The few windows in the tiny room were merely narrow slits at the tops of the walls, and it appeared that the building's electrical power for the space heater came from a small gasoline powered generator which was situated right outside the door. Dust lay thick on a table and two small chairs in the room's center, and there were some dirty sleeping mats rolled up and stashed in the corner, along with a metal bucket. Two battery operated lanterns hung from one of the walls. _God...what kind of nasty goddamn place is this?_ Taking in his surroundings, he sighed softly. _At least I don't have to sleep on the rocks anymore..._

The driver said something sharply to the other three men, and they left in a hurry. Sitting in one of the chairs, he switched on a lantern, placing it on the center of the table. He gazed quizzically at Booth for a few seconds before tapping his own chest with his hand. "I am Darain."

"So you do speak some English.", Booth replied, waiting to see how his companion would react. Encouraged by a slight smile, he continued as he sat down opposite of the man. "I am Booth. Are you in charge here?"

"No...I am not. It is Aswar. He is not here now, but soon." Darain pointed at Booth's feet. "Take off shoes."

A terrible memory suddenly flashed through Booth's mind as he remembered his torture at the hands of the Republican Guard after he'd been captured in Iraq during Operation Desert Storm. They'd broken so many bones in both of his feet when they'd beaten him with those rubber hoses that the doctors at the VA had doubted that he'd ever be able to walk again. Shuddering slightly, he tried to remain calm...he couldn't allow himself to show the slightest hint of fear.

"Yeah...okay." He reached down to untie the laces of his boots and gingerly withdrew his horribly swollen feet, quickly wiping away the tears of pain that had sprung up in his eyes. After slowly peeling off his filthy socks, he tried to wiggle his toes a little bit. "Sorry about the smell…I haven't had a bath in awhile..."

Picking up the boots, Darain pointed at Booth's legs. "Trousers and belt..."

"Wait...you want my pants, too? Come on…" Sighing as he saw Darain's eyebrow quirk, Booth grumbled at the man. "Son of a bitch...seriously? You want me to strip down to my boxers? It's not like I've got anywhere to go around here, right?" Grunting in irritation, he shimmied out of his jeans. "Okay...you win. Here…"

Gathering up the clothing, his captor moved towards the door. "You stay. Food soon."

As the door closed, Booth heard a scraping sound against the large wooden door and then the click of a metal lock. Walking slowly across the stone floor, he tried to make the door open, but it wouldn't budge. "Shit…", he muttered to himself in frustration. "Well, I'm still kicking, and I guess they're gonna feed me, but it looks like I'm not going anywhere right away."

Oooooooooo

Alex Radziwell grumbled to himself as he stirred some sugar into his coffee. He was an experienced member of the diplomatic corps, rarely getting his hands dirty with the nuts and bolts of dealing with this sort of thing. However, as soon as he saw the name on the forwarded email, he knew he had to do something immediately. He couldn't trust anyone else to handle it...not when it concerned his old friend.

 _My old friend..._ Staring out of the Royal Diner's picture window, he chuckled softly, shaking his head at that thought. He had often gone toe to toe with Special Agent Seeley Booth over the FBI's unfortunate attempts to prosecute certain individuals who had allegedly committed crimes, even if said individuals had diplomatic immunity. The agent was as stubborn as an ox when it came to doing what he thought was right, no matter what the rules of diplomacy said. _He says no one should be above the law…_ Sipping his coffee, Alex had to be honest with himself. _And he's right...sometimes the rules do suck…not that we can do anything about that..._

However, he knew Booth's stubbornness was rooted in his desire for justice as well as in his personal sense of integrity, and as such, the man deserved tremendous respect. The agent had often chosen to do something because it was the right thing to do instead of the politically correct thing to do, and he was willing to stand by his choice, even if no one else agreed with him. _He's one helluva agent, even if he is a lousy diplomat..._

Now Booth was in a lot of trouble...he was the one who needed someone to take a stand for him. The problem was that Alex was not really in a position to make that stand, but he thought he knew someone who probably would be.

He looked up as the diner's doorbell chimed, waving slightly at the younger man who was coming to join him. "Hey, Danny. How's it going?"

"Not too bad other than being so goddamn cold." Danny Beck offered the waitress a pleasant smile as she brought him some coffee. "What's going on? I mean, I'm always glad to see you, Alex, but having to drive in from Langley in this weather is no fun…"

"I know." Alex reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I'm sorry for all the secrecy and all the spy shit, but I wanted to keep this out of the public eye as long as possible. Have you seen this yet?" He handed the page to his companion.

"What is it? A picture of an old map? So?" Danny studied the picture carefully as he poured some cream into his coffee. "Looks like Pakistan...the far northwestern corner…"

"Right...Peshawar and the surrounding vicinity between there and Torkham." Alex pointed to a section to call Danny's attention to it. "But look closer...up here in the corner. Can you make that out? I can lend you my reading glasses…"

Danny rolled his eyes at the man sitting across from him. "Not necessary, but thanks." He picked up the page and inspected it closely. "So this is a picture of a map, but I'm not supposed to worry about that...wait a minute!" Shocked at what he read, he looked at the diplomat in amazement. "That's from Booth...I mean, we knew he wasn't on the chopper, but…"

"...but we weren't sure of what had happened to him, since his dog tags showed up at Bagram without him. Yeah, I know. The guys on the helicopter recovery team found that note in an abandoned truck in the same vicinity where the bird went down. The Army thinks Booth got double crossed by the unidentified casualty...one of the bodies they found in the crash...they think he took Booth's place for some reason." Alex picked up the sheet of paper and read over it again. "He says he was stranded, but we don't exactly know what that means, do we? The important point is that on December 11, he was still alive." Shrugging slightly, he folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. "I didn't want to send this to you via email. Right now, it's still hush-hush over at the Truman while the boys in charge try to figure out what to do about this little tidbit. Nobody in their right mind thinks Booth would actually walk all the way to Torkham, but they don't know him like we do…you and I know he'd haul his ass outta there if he was able instead of waiting around for something to happen."

"True. He's a tough bastard…he could make it there on balls alone if he had to." Danny sighed heavily as he stared into his cup. "So are your guys gonna go look for him?"

"Who knows? It's a big fucking mess…" Radziwell gazed through the diner's picture window as he contemplated the question. "You know it practically takes revelation from Heaven to get those guys off their asses over there. They gotta make sure they're not gonna step on somebody's toes when they go waltzing through the tribals to look for him. They also have to figure out who they're gonna send if they do decide to mount a search. Having the Army stomp around in the frontier looking for one soldier is gonna look mighty suspicious to the Pakistanis. They're always getting their nuts in a twist about something, you know, and this might be what sets them off. It doesn't help that it's a big swath of land, either…it could be a huge corridor that needs to be searched..."

"...and the Pakistanis are gonna want to be included to make sure everything is kosher and nobody's out of bounds, which means that has to be coordinated from on high, which takes a lot of fucking time...Jesus…" Clearly frustrated, Danny glared at his companion. "So why are you even telling me this?"

"Well, first, because he's a friend of yours, right? You served in Desert Storm with him? So I figured you had a right to know." Seeing the younger man nod tentatively, Alex continued. "Second, because it looks like this John Green bastard you keep bitching about screwed Booth over big time, except it backfired, because Booth's still alive. Third...and this is the real point...I thought maybe some of your guys might be able to scout out where Booth is, so we can narrow our search parameters. You have operatives in that area, right? People who listen for rumors about strange occurrences in the neighborhoods around the tribals?"

"You know I can't tell you that, Alex." Danny grinned as he stirred cream into his second cup of coffee. "But, if we did, and if they heard about anything weird, like seeing an American in the area, then it may be that I'd let you know about it." He glanced at his phone. "But here's the real problem, okay? Booth wrote this note on the 11th, and today's the 20th…"

"I know. It took a few days for the guys at the embassies over there to figure out what to do with this intel. They had to make sure it was sent by a reliable source, but the Army officer who'd found the note and sent them the picture was out of pocket for a few days, and they couldn't find him to verify the information. Then after they did verify it, they sent word stateside so someone could figure out what to do...and we've had guys walking around with their heads up their asses for a couple of days trying to decide how to handle it." He grimaced in disgust. "I can't imagine anything really happening until after Christmas…"

"Bullshit!" Danny yelled, slamming his fist on the table. Embarrassed at his outburst, he offered a sheepish look to the patrons who'd turned to stare in his direction. "Sorry..." Lowering his voice, he whispered furiously at his companion. "They can't waste any more time on this! The weather could turn bad...he could be picked up by hostiles…C'mon, Alex! Can't you light somebody's tail on fire? We gotta move this along…"

"I'll do the best I can, but you know things over at the State Department move at a glacial pace." Draining his coffee cup, Alex glanced at his friend. "Do you think we should tell Dr. Brennan about Booth? That he may still be alive?"

Danny sat back in his chair, pausing for a few seconds as he thought about his decision. Finally he shook his head. "Much as I hate to say it, I don't think so. I don't want to give her any false hope until we know for sure what's going on."

"Okay...that's fine with me, although, as smart as she is, she might find out on her own, and then there'll be Hell to pay for keeping her in the dark, you know..."

"You don't think she'd actually try to go to Pakistan to look for Booth, do you?" Danny was appalled. "Surely she knows the government's stand on matters like this...that we don't negotiate ransom for hostages…"

"I'm sure she does, but, remember, she also does whatever she damn well pleases. We don't need that complication right now…let's hope she doesn't figure out what's going on." Picking up the check for the coffee, Alex stood up and got ready to leave. "Keep in touch, okay? Let me know if you hear anything." He threw a couple of bills on the table. "Have a good Christmas."

"Yeah...you, too." Danny watched Alex walk away and heaved a heavy sigh. _So_ _Booth's out wandering around in Pakistan and we need to find him before the bad guys do. Merry fucking Christmas to me..._

Oooooooooo

It was Christmas Day, and Brennan was checking her phone messages as she sat in the airport's concourse waiting area. _Another text from Angela, asking me to come to Christmas dinner. She really should give up…I've already said no, and I'm not changing my mind...I need to do this…if nothing else, I need to feel like I'm making an effort…_

She shook her head as she sent her response. She'd made other plans...

 _/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/_

Angela had been insistent that her best friend spend Christmas Day at the house Hodgins had recently purchased for them, but Brennan had repeatedly declined. "I don't normally celebrate Christmas, Angela. You know that...and even if I did, I certainly wouldn't be in a festive mood, knowing that Booth was missing. I'm sure I'd put a damper on your celebration."

"But it's Michael-Vincent's first Christmas. Don't you want to be there?" Seeing that her friend was unpersuaded, Angela sighed softly. "I just don't think you should be alone now, Sweetie. You need to be with people who love you. It doesn't do any good to sit around and brood all day by yourself. That won't bring him home." Angela's sadness had permeated their discussion. "Booth loves Christmas and you're going to be thinking of him, right? So why not do something he loves in the meantime? I'm sure he'd want you to be with your friends instead of running away from everyone. I know you don't celebrate the holiday, but I think you need to do something fun to keep your mind off things…"

"Nothing is going to keep my mind off Booth, Angela!", Brennan had snapped. She paused as she realized how rude she sounded. "I'm sorry. It's just...I don't think it is appropriate for me to enjoy the holidays right now…"

"But it's not like you're in mourning, okay? We have every reason to believe that Booth is alive…" Frustrated, Angela took her friend's hand. "Please? It really bothers me to think of you sitting by yourself in your apartment on Christmas…"

"However, realistically, Angela, Booth might also be dead. We don't have any facts. I am hopeful, but I have to be realistic." Brennan shook her head resolutely. "My mind is made up, Angela. Besides, I won't be staying at my apartment alone over Christmas. I've already purchased my plane ticket...I'm leaving the country for a few days. I'll be back January 2."

"A dig? You're going on a dig? How does that make sense? How is that any better?" Angela was irritated with her friend's plans. "I can't believe you'd want to go to some God forsaken place over Christmas instead of spending time with the people who love you. We just want to help you, Sweetie…"

"I appreciate that, but this is something I need to do. I'll call you when I return."

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Brennan's reverie was interrupted by the gate agent's announcement. "Delta Airlines flight 2526, nonstop service to London, is now ready for preboarding. All first class passengers may move toward the gate…"

Placing her phone in her bag, Brennan walked over and presented her boarding pass to the agent. "Yes, ma'am...seat 1A."

Settling in her seat, she sipped her tea, satisfied that she had made the correct choice. She had business in London that couldn't wait. She'd be starting back at the Jeffersonian after the New Year, so she had to do this now.

"She may not want to see me, but I have to try…", Brennan muttered to herself. "I need to see her...I won't leave until I tell her what's going on. This is all her fault." Pulling up an image on her tablet, Brennan grimaced in annoyance when she saw the blonde's perky smile.

It wasn't logical at all, and she knew in the long run, it most likely wouldn't make any difference, but for her own peace of mind, she had to try. She had to do something...anything, no matter how small, would be better than what was happening at that moment. She couldn't stand the idea that there was nothing she could do to help Booth...no matter how small it was. For her own peace of mind she had to make the effort. It would be worth it if it eased her mounting frustration.

She put her tablet into her bag and sat back as the jet raced down the runway and lifted into the air. Squaring her shoulders, she watched as the nation's capital receded into the distance.

"I know what I need to do. I'm going to march in to Hannah's office at the television station and tell her exactly what I think of her…and then I'm going to demand that she use her contacts in Pakistan to help me find Booth!"


	24. Chapter 24

_**A/N: thank you for your continued interest in my story. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it.**_

* * *

Judging by the date on his watch, approximately eight days had passed since Booth had last seen Darain. He blinked back the tears of anger and regret that welled up in his eyes. _I think it's probably after Christmas by now...and I've missed being home for the holidays this year with Parker and Bones...but I can't dwell on that right now…I've gotta focus on staying alive..._

As he sat at the table in the tiny room that was serving as his prison cell, he had to admit that, all things considered, he was still in pretty good shape. He'd been receiving plenty of water, and three meals a day. The rice pilaf and yoghurt they'd brought for him every day hadn't been what he was used to eating, but it was filling enough to keep his hunger pangs away and bland enough to keep his stomach from being upset. _After practically starving myself, I'd eat almost anything.._. _even that weird vegetarian crap Bones likes..._

When he'd figured out how to arrange the lumpy mats on the floor in just the right way, he'd been able to sleep fairly well. On the fourth day of his stay, one of the younger men had brought him a small bar of soap and some extra water so he could scrub away some of the grunge left over from his week long ordeal trekking through the hills. No one in the compound had made any serious threats against him, other than those words that had reminded him not to try to escape when the food was handed to him, and in general, it seemed as if his captors were treating him more like a curiosity instead of as an actual prisoner. _So far, so good, I guess...if I have to be stuck somewhere against my will, this place isn't too bad...yet...but I haven't seen the guy in charge, either...that might change things..._

He still didn't have his pants or his boots back in his possession, but the electric space heater stashed in a corner had been efficient enough to warm up the small room, and except for the annoyance of being barefoot and halfway dressed, he hadn't really missed those items. He glanced down at his feet and tried to wiggle his toes again. His feet were still slightly tender, but the swelling had gone down quite a bit and it seemed there hadn't been any permanent damage done to them during his hike across the tribal lands of Pakistan. _Thank God for that...if I ever make it back home, I'll be able to go back to work...with Bones._

He sighed quietly as he stared at the blank wall in front of him. The main problem right now was boredom. There was nothing to read...nobody to talk to...it was just himself and his thoughts. Being stuck by himself in that dimly lit brick hut had made it hard for him to keep track of the passage of time, and one day had slowly slipped into another. With it being winter, the days were short, and the low angle of the sun meant that Booth's room was dark most of the time. Darain had left the two lanterns in the room, but their pale light extended to a small perimeter, leaving the rest of the room in deep shadows. Booth found himself sleeping several hours at a time during the day, rolled up snugly in his pallet, almost like he was hibernating.

Having been a prisoner of war during Desert Storm, Booth was well aware of the psychology involved in keeping captives on edge. Right now he was basically in solitary confinement, but whether or not that had been a deliberate choice on the part of his captors was unknown. He turned over the question in his mind as he sat in the silence. Who were these people, and what did they want? Why were they holding him? No one in the States knew where he was...was he going to be forgotten? Lost forever to his loved ones?

His heart rate accelerated as panic began to set in. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to inhale and exhale slowly, counting the seconds between each breath. He had to remain calm. He couldn't fall prey to his overactive imagination. He had to focus on this minute...on right now. He couldn't worry about tomorrow or next week. He had to survive today.

 _That's what they want, right? They want me to sit here in the dark and go crazy...to let my own demons get the best of me…for me to give in to my fears...it's like a kind of torture...the bloodless kind…_

During his Ranger training, Booth had been subjected to all manner of grueling physical tests, designed to push his body to its limits, but passing those tests wasn't the only thing that qualified him as being part of the Army's most elite group of soldiers. He'd had to endure many types of intense psychological trials as well, designed to make sure he'd be able to handle any sort of stress an enemy could dish out. He had to be able to withstand the pressure of being a captive without being broken emotionally.

Many years ago, after he'd been rescued from the Republican Guard, his grandfather had given him a copy of a book that changed his life. Senator John McCain had written a book entitled _Faith of our Fathers,_ which contained several chapters in which he described his time as a prisoner of war in VietNam. McCain had been kept in horrible conditions, and was beaten and tortured mercilessly by his Viet Cong captors. Still, no matter how bad things got, the man had managed to maintain his dignity and humanity until he was released five and a half years after he was captured.

Booth could certainly identify with everything McCain had written in that book. The things that had happened to him were not of his making...it wasn't his fault. He'd wanted someone to be angry at, but no one seemed to fit the bill. He was stuck in Limbo right now...and there was nothing to do but wait for a resolution.

As he remembered what McCain had endured, Booth considered his own situation. Things weren't good, but he hadn't been tortured the way the Senator had been. In fact, his treatment so far could almost be described as humane. _Things could go to Hell any second, but so far, I'm good...I can handle this shit for awhile. They'll let me know soon enough what they want from me…until then I gotta find something to keep my mind occupied._

In an effort to fight off his lethargy, Booth had been trying to recall different things in his past, like the names of all the players on the Phillies' World Series team, or the names of the actors in his grandfather's television shows...anything to keep his mind active. Songs...jokes...Bible verses...he had to keep thinking to keep sane.

Today he'd decided to try to recall details from the all the cases he'd worked with Bones, starting with Gemma Arrington's murder. He'd been desperate for help in that case...he'd wanted to close that case to prove his worth to Director Cullen, but he'd hit a dead end. That's when Cam had offered him a wild idea…go visit some lady anthropologist...and the memory of meeting her that day was still vivid in his mind...as if it had been just yesterday.

 _...I walked into that room and there was Bones...that's when I saw her for the first time. She was breathtaking...so beautiful...so brilliant...and I was a goner, right? Love at first site? Oh yeah...I believed it was fate, and she said that was crazy. That's when I wondered how I could ever get someone like her to work with an ordinary guy like me…_ He chuckled to himself as he remembered what had happened during the case...and the lasting impression Temperance Brennan had made on him in the short time they'd worked together. _Poor Tessa...poor Rebecca...poor Cam...none of them ever stood a chance, did they? It's always been Bones, hasn't it? Even when I was with Hannah…_

He swallowed hard as he thought once again about the poor choices he'd made in his life. _I should've known better about Hannah...but I don't want to think about that right now. It won't do any good._ He shook his head, trying to clear those bad memories from his mind. _Water under the bridge..._

 _What was the next case I worked with Bones? Oh yeah...the guy who was killed because his brother had rigged a bomb to blow his his car...his brother was a Muslim extremist...and then I shot the bad guy dead in the middle of that convention hall...I killed him...and then later when I talked it over with Bones...that's when I knew Bones would always have my back. She knew I felt bad about it, and she didn't judge me...we were sitting at Wong Fu's, having drink, and she just smiled and reminded me that I'd saved so many lives that day…and I realized I could talk to her about anything...I knew she was something special...she's amazing...and I can't wait to see her again…_

He ran his fingers across the numerous scratches in the worn wooden table. He felt like he could handle anything the bad guys might dish out if she was waiting for him back home. Suddenly a horrible thought occurred to him. _Bones doesn't know where I am...she may not even know I'm still alive. Maybe nobody found the note I wrote on the map…maybe nobody looked in that truck's glove box..._

He found himself panicking again as he thought about how his Bones might react to the news he was missing...and maybe even presumed dead. _But by now they gotta know it wasn't me on that chopper, right? It's been almost two weeks...okay...calm down, Buddy…they'll let her know it wasn't me..._

She'd been so angry with him when the FBI had faked his death all those years ago. Would she be angry with him now? He was missing...would she think it had been part of a bigger plan to deceive her? It's not like he could do anything about it…there was no way to get word to her. _Just gotta relax...I can't let it get to me...focus. What was our next case together? Oh, yeah...that poor kid with the ear implants...the Venezuelan Ambassador's son...I wonder if the American Embassy has been contacted about me...can't think about that right now. Gotta focus…can't let solitary confinement get to me…a boy in a tree...a man in a bear...Washington State...bear scat...cannibals…_

Completely wrapped up in his thoughts, Booth was startled as he heard the door to his room creak open. Darain nodded as he entered the small living area, holding out Booth's pants and some sandals. "Answar is back. He wishes to see you. Get dressed...you come now."

Oooooooooo

It was the morning of December 27, and Brennan was enjoying a pleasant room service breakfast in her beautifully appointed hotel room before setting out for the day. She sipped her English breakfast tea as she gazed out over the city of London. _It really is a beautiful city...perhaps Booth and I can retire together here one day…_

Of course, retiring together was contingent on getting Booth back home safely, but she was working on that. She nodded to herself as she spread some raspberry jam over a muffin, anticipating the surprised look on Hannah's face. "I think that might be very amusing…her expression when I show up at her office, especially when she discovers that I'm not leaving until I get some satisfaction."

Yawning and stretching a bit, she was pensive as she watched some birds fly by her window before alighting on the neighboring rooftops. She'd arrived in London late on Christmas Day, checking into her suite as soon as she could and going right to bed with a set of anthropology journals to read so she could brush up on the latest information available in preparation for going back to work at the lab. Yesterday was Boxing Day, which was a holiday in the UK, so she'd spent a quiet day reading through the final galleys of her new book, which was scheduled to be published in the middle of January.

So today was the day. She was going to confront Hannah with the news of Booth's mission and his present status as missing in action. "Surely she must know someone who can help me.", Brennan muttered to herself as she finished her tea. "She lived in that area for many years…"

Setting her cup aside, Brennan rose to get dressed. She pulled a red sweater over her black slacks and studied her image in the mirror. "It's not logical, but I think Booth would be pleased with my appearance." It was a silly thought, but it made her happy to think of him thinking about her.

She called the hotel's concierge to make arrangements for a cab, and picked up her jacket and purse. "Ready or not, Hannah...here I come…"

Oooooooooo

Darain pointed to the passenger seat of a truck parked in front of the hut. "Get in."

" _Interesting...he trusts me to comply. He probably knows I've got nowhere else to go…"_ Squinting in the bright sunlight, Booth climbed into the truck's cab and they pulled away from the compound. "Nice to get out of the house for awhile…"

Glancing at his passenger, Darain shrugged as he pointed down a narrow road. "Answar's house."

"That's where we're going? Okay." Offering the driver a small grin, he shrugged back. "Answar's the boss, right?"

"Yes. Head of clan." Checking his mirror, Darain bit his lip nervously. "My cousin."

"So Mr. Bigshot Answar is your cousin? Does that make you the second in command? Man, that's gotta suck taking orders from someone else all the time, doesn't it? He makes you do all the dirty work, right? I bet he's a real prick about it, too."

"I help him." Darain was becoming agitated with Booth's probing questions. "No more talk."

"Okay by me." Booth turned to the passenger window as an idea began to form. _Hmm...so now he's annoyed. I wonder if I can use this little family feud between cousins to my advantage._

After about ten minutes, the truck entered the driveway leading up to a large, modern looking house. The two story building had been constructed of stucco covered concrete, and had evidently been designed with both comfort and security in mind. The windows facing the road had wrought iron safety bars decorating them, and Booth couldn't help but notice the armed guard patrolling the upper floor's balcony.

"Nice place. It must pay well to be the head of a clan." Booth smirked a little at Darain's irritation. "Okay, let's go see your cousin."

A barefoot servant greeted them at the door and showed them into a plush living room filled with colorful artwork and expensive furniture. Gesturing toward the tufted leather sofa, the man bowed and said something in Urdu before rushing out. Raising an eyebrow quizzically, Booth glanced around the room, taking in the marble floors and golden fixtures. _This Answar guy must be up to his elbows in money…_

Returning with a tray of tea and food, the servant spoke animatedly to Darain, who seemed upset. Shaking his head, his voice rose in anger as the servant quickly left.

"Answar is busy. We must wait for him to get here."

"That's okay, buddy. I've got nowhere I gotta be right now." Smiling to himself, Booth pretended to study a painting. _Answar's pulling rank...putting his cousin in his place by making him wait. Interesting…_ Reaching for a cup of tea, Booth took a sip. "The figs look good…"

"Hmmph." Crossing his arms over his chest, Darain grumbled to himself in Urdu as he picked up some fruit. "He has things to do before he comes."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't you hate that? It's like your time isn't important, right? Because after all, you're not in charge, are you?", Booth commented as he sipped his tea. "Well, it's no big deal…"

It was a few more minutes before the third man joined them. Answar Shalmani appeared to be in his late thirties or perhaps his early forties. His glasses and graying hair, along with his slight build, gave him a professorial air that belied the obvious power he wielded over the members of his clan. He sat down in his chair and gestured at Booth with a ceremonious wave of his hand. "Welcome to my home, sir. We are honored to have a visitor from the United States." He noticed Booth's surprise and smiled slightly. "Yes, I speak very good English. I was educated in London as a young man." He aimed a sneer at Darain. "As the eldest son of the leader of my clan, my family decided it was a worthwhile investment to send me to university. When my father died, I was then in an excellent position to take his place as a leader."

"I see." Booth felt Darain's annoyance as the man fidgeted nervously next to him. "It appears you've done well for yourself. You have a beautiful home."

"Thank you." Answar gave Booth an appraising glance. "Darain has informed me that you have been very cooperative during your stay, which surprises me. I'd think you'd want to try to escape."

 _So now the asshole's baiting me, too._ "Well, it's not like I could get far from the place where you're holding me without my boots, especially as cold as it gets in the foothills."

"However, it seems you managed to travel quite a distance from the crash site." Seeing Booth's surprise, the man chuckled. "My men have estimated you'd walked at least twenty miles, and most likely more, in very harsh conditions. Quite impressive. They were surprised to find you alive."

"How do you know that?" Thoroughly confused, Booth glanced at Darain, who was staring angrily at his cousin. "You know where the chopper went down? How the hell…"

"Of course. I know everything. It was one of my men who used the grenade launcher that shot it down. He stayed in the area of the crash site for a few days so he could salvage some materials after the crash, but he was quite surprised when he realized there had been at least one survivor from the explosion. It was then I decided that we'd accomplish more by looking for a man instead of material."

 _That's why they've taken care of me...they're gonna ask for ransom._ Booth pretended to smile. "Well, I guess it's a good thing you were out in the tribals looking for me, then…"

"Yes, but I must say I am confused." Answar pursed his lips as he studied a small card in his hand. "The ID card we found in your trouser pocket says your name is Clayton Moore, but you told Darain your name is Booth." He shrugged as he grinned at his cousin. "Of course, Darain isn't very smart, and his English is very bad. Perhaps he misunderstood you. Anyway, it's important that I know your correct name so I can inform your government of your status as our guest."

Sighing softly, Booth grimaced with mock embarrassment. "Yeah, about that...that fake ID was kind of a stupid joke between a guy I know and me. See, I'm an Army Ranger, and he was always teasing me about being the Lone Ranger...like this American tv character...and the character's real name was Clayton Moore, so the guy gave me that card...it's stupid, really…"

Nodding as he listened to Booth's story, Answar appeared to be unconvinced. He stared at Booth for a minute or two before continuing. "Would I be correct in assuming your friend's name is John Green? This looks like his handiwork…he is very talented at making fake IDs for the CIA."

 _Son of a bitch!_ Hoping to hide his shock, Booth took a sip of his tea. "John Green? I don't know anyone by that name…I mean, it is a fairly common American name, but..."

"Come now...no more lies." Answar laughed softly. "You said it yourself...you're an US Army Ranger. You were supposed to be on a helicopter which one of my men shot down, and John Green personally made those arrangements with the man, hoping to be done with you. I happen to know that your government's CIA is looking for you here in Pakistan as we speak. I know your name is Seeley Booth, and you hold the rank of Sergeant Major, and that the Army is quite anxious to get you back…they're even talking about mounting a rescue operation with Delta Forces. All that trouble for just one man...you must be quite special in your own way."

"Bull shit! There's no way you could know all of that…", Booth sputtered. "You're just guessing…"

"Actually, I'm not." Looking bored with Booth's angry bluster, Answar took a dainty sip of his tea and set his cup aside. "You see, the local men that the CIA has hired in order to keep an eye and ear out for information from the area are all members of my clan. Their loyalty is to me first...they tell me everything they know before they pass along any of the information to your government. I determine what intelligence they pass on. So when the CIA operatives put feelers out asking about some wayward American soldier lost and all alone in the tribals...I knew who they were looking for." The slender man shrugged as he folded his hands in his lap. "I hope there are no hard feelings, you know...since my man tried to kill you when he brought down the helicopter. I think we can both agree that things turned out for the best…no thanks to Green, of course." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I imagine you feel the same way I do...that the man is a liar and a thief...and a murderer...one who is probably responsible for the deaths of many people. We both want the bastard dead, correct?"

"I guess." Booth studied his host warily, unsure if he wanted to know the answer to his next question. "So what happens now?"

"Now we wait to see if the CIA will respond favorably to my request...you know, the terms I gave them for your release." Answar nibbled on a piece of fruit. "Oh, don't worry. I have no plans to end your life, Booth. As an US Army Ranger, you're much too valuable a commodity to kill needlessly. If the CIA can't take care of the issue in a satisfactory manner, I know some mercenary groups in South Africa that would be glad to purchase a man with the all talents and expertise such as those you possess. A soldier with your skills might bring as much as 100,000 American dollars on the black market."

"I'm not some slave you can trade on the open market, Shalmani…", Booth began angrily. "They'll come looking for me as soon as they realize who's got me…"

"Perhaps." Answar flashed an sly grin. "But they won't find you." He nodded to Darain. "Take our guest back to his hut."

Giving his cousin an angry glare, Darain stood up and gestured at Booth. "Come."

"Yeah...okay." Booth rose from the couch and turned back to Shalmani. "You better enjoy what time you've got left...those Delta Force boys don't fuck around with bastards like you…"

Answar smiled benignly as his guests left. "Goodbye to you, too, Sergeant Major Booth."

Oooooooooo

After getting out of the cab, Brennan stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the tall steel and glass building that housed Hannah's office. She'd made a conscious decision not to call ahead for an appointment to avoid giving the journalist an opportunity to avoid her. _I'm going to wait as long as it takes for me to see her today…_

After checking the building's directory, she rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, where BBC News was headquartered. Pushing through the glass double doors, she stopped at the front desk. "I need to see Hannah Burley, please. My name is Dr. Temperance Brennan."

The young man looked up from his computer in surprise. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but what I need will only take a few minutes. Please tell her I'm here. I'm visiting from the States. We're old friends, and I'm sure she'll wish to see me while I'm in town." Crossing her arms over her chest, Brennan dared the man to argue with her. "I'm waiting. Is she in her office? If so, please announce me at once."

"Ms. Burley sees no one without an appointment. I can make one for you to see her tomorrow…"

"No, that won't do. I'm leaving town tomorrow morning, so I need to see her today." Looking past the desk and down the hall, Brennan saw a familiar shade of blonde hair as someone went around a corner. "There she is...Hannah? Hannah, wait…it's me, Temperance…"

"Temperance?" Caught off guard, Hannah stood with her mouth agape as the anthropologist raced down the hall towards her. "What a surprise…"

The young man from reception was breathless after trying to catch up with Brennan. "I'm sorry, Ms. Burley...I tried to tell her you weren't available…"

"It's not a problem, Clive. Dr. Brennan is a friend of mine." Hannah tried to smile as she ushered her guest into her large office. "So you just happened to be in London?"

Settling into an armchair, Brennan shook her head. "No...I came specifically with the idea of seeing you. Something has happened that you need to know about...something with Booth."

Hannah gasped in shock. "He's not...he's okay, isn't he?" She slumped against her desk chair. "Oh no…did he...die?"

"I have no reason at this time to believe he is deceased. However, he is missing somewhere in the vicinity of the Afghanistan/Pakistan border. He took on a dangerous sniper mission in the area, and he was successful, but no one has heard anything from him in the weeks following the completion of his project." Brennan could barely contain her anger as she watched Hannah wipe her eyes with a tissue. "I don't know where he is right now, or if he's alive, and it's all your fault. First, you damage the relationship he and I had...we were such good friends, and you tried to ruin it out of jealousy, I suppose. After that, he focused all of his love on you...the love you told him you wanted. He wanted to marry you, and then you suddenly changed your mind. You threw him aside like some damaged toy. If you hadn't broken up with him, he wouldn't have volunteered for such a dangerous mission! He loved you, and you hurt him so badly! He was desperate to get out of town...to get away from DC...and all because of you and your selfish actions! He should be at home with me right now, but instead…" She paused for a minute to regain her composure. "Know this, Hannah...if something unfortunate has happened to Booth, I will find a way to make the rest of your life miserable. You are a terrible person, and I'll never forgive you for what you've done to both of us."

"Trust me, Temperance...if something happened to Booth, I _would_ be miserable." Sniffling slightly, Hannah wiped more tears away. "You're right...I'm an awfully selfish person." Sighing heavily, she studied her nails. "I was weak, and I was a nasty bitch...and I would give anything if I could take back what happened." She paused as Brennan began to pace the room. "Would you please let me explain?"

"What could you possibly say that would make things better?" Brennan stood with her hands on her hips. "You've ruined the lives of at least two people…"

"I know." Fidgeting with a pencil, Hannah continued softly. "I really did love Seeley, Temperance...part of me still does...but marriage...takes two...and he was in no position to make that commitment to me...and I knew he would never be happy with me...not for the long haul..."

Furious, Brennan interrupted. "What do you mean, he wouldn't be happy? Booth asked you to marry him, Hannah. He is a man of his word! He would've honored his commitment to you…"

"You're right. He would do the things necessary to maintain a relationship, and he'd think he was happy with me, but deep down, I think he and I both knew he was lying to himself." Seeing Brennan's disbelief, the reporter twisted a blonde ringlet around her finger. "Okay, let me explain it another way. When Seeley and I were in Afghanistan together, he was focused entirely on me. I was a selfish bitch, but he didn't care...he was totally into me, and I loved having all of his attention. But then later on, when I joined him in DC...I realized it had all been an act on his part. He hadn't done it deliberately, but he was acting all the same...he was pretending he was in love with me, even though he knew I'd never be able to replace you in his heart. I just didn't want to share him with you any more."

Hannah choked back a sob. "We tried so hard to make it work...we really did, but he could never find it in his heart to give you up, Temperance, and I knew I'd never be happy playing second fiddle to his best friend...the only woman he's ever really loved. So I did a horrible thing...I tried to end your friendship, thinking he'd be able to get over you, but his heart ached for you...he wasn't the same after that, and that's when I knew it was over. I realized there was no future for us together, so I left him, even though it hurt him deeply. I was thinking of myself first. It's as simple as that."

Brennan was dumbfounded at Hannah's confession. A few seconds passed before she could shake off the waves of emotion that had washed through her. "Did you even bother to explain to Booth what you were feeling? Did you give him a chance to work things out between you?"

"No...I was too weak...too sad. I knew I'd be wasting my time…" Hannah blinked back more tears. "Never in my wildest dreams did I think he'd take it so hard. I can't imagine what he was thinking...why would he volunteer for such a dangerous mission?"

"Because he felt he had no one left who cared for him, with the exception of Parker, of course. He didn't have you any more, and your meddling had caused him to become estranged from me as well." Brennan couldn't help but smile a bit as she thought of what had happened later. "Fortunately, we were able to reconnect a few days before he left...we will be together permanently from now on...if he makes it home safely. That's my other reason for visiting you. I need you to do something for me...actually for Booth as well."

"What...you came all the way from DC to chew my ass, and now you want a favor?" Hannah laughed sarcastically as she threw her tissue away. "Well, why not? What do you need, Temperance?"

Brennan squared her shoulders resolutely as she stared down at Hannah. "I need the names of any contacts you have left from your time in Afghanistan. Do you know anyone in Pakistan? I'll need those names, too."

"Surely you're not thinking of traveling there to contact those people...that's a fool's errand, Temperance...you'd never be successful…it's too dangerous"

"And I won't know unless I try. So...names…." Brennan tapped her foot impatiently. "Or would you like me to cause another scene in the outer office?"

"No, that won't be necessary...it's just that most of them are dead." Hannah scrolled through her computer, muttering to herself. "He's disappeared...he's in prison...he's dead…" Finally she looked up at Brennan. "I think this may be the person you need to talk to, but don't mention my name to him. He's a confidential source of information for me...he's the reason I get so many scoops on the competition." She scribbled down the information on a slip of paper and handed it to her visitor.

"His name and email. He lives in the Pakistani tribal areas . If Answar Shalmani can't help you, nobody can."

Glancing at the paper, Brennan nodded. "Thank you." Picking up her purse, she turned to leave.

"Temperance...when you find out something about Booth, please let me know." Hannah looked at her with pleading eyes. "I really do care about him…I never wanted to give him up, you know...you're so lucky to have him in your life, but I'd still like to hear from him...I want to apologize for all the hurt and pain I've caused both of you...I really am sorry..."

Brennan shook her head as she looked at Hannah with disgust. "I'm not sure you deserve to be forgiven, Hannah. Your lies have had dire consequences for Booth and for me. In fact, I think it could be said that your lies put him in danger. And as for letting you know if I hear something...I'm afraid you lost the privilege of knowing what happens in Booth's life several months ago." Brennan regarded the reporter with a cold glare. "However, when I find out what has happened to him, I will consider your request. Goodbye."

Marching to the elevator, she took it down to the street level, where she hailed a cab to take her back to her hotel. It was going to take some time to figure out exactly how to contact the Pakistani man Hannah knew, but if that's what it took, Brennan was willing to do that. _I'd do anything for Booth…_

Oooooooooo

Annoyed as he read through the latest information from Pakistan, Danny Beck swore to himself. Everything they'd received from their agents in the area was basically the same shit worded in several different ways. _Somebody's filtering what we read...they're basically feeding us a line of bullshit. I bet our intel has been compromised by double agents somewhere down the line...they work for the Pakistanis as well as us. Fucking hell…_

He was surprised as an email popped up on his screen. _That's from Pakistan...it's tomorrow morning there...and late afternoon here. What in the world?_

He gasped out loud as he read the contents of the message, rereading it to make sure he understood. "Wait...we can't do that…", he muttered to himself. "Can we?"

Grabbing his phone, he called his friend Alex Radziwell. "Hey, Alex...did you get an email from Answar Shelmani? No? Okay, I'm gonna forward it to you. It's gonna be a problem, buddy...a big problem. Yeah...we need to call in the big boys to help us out. Get Colonel Randall on the phone again. We need to put a plan together pronto...like first thing tomorrow morning."

Danny ended the call and threw his phone aside. Sighing softly, he rubbed his temples as he read the email again. Shelmani had forced their hand, and it was decision time.

 _Exactly how much will we do to get Booth back?_

.


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/N: my apologies for not updating the story yesterday. Real life intruded and things were slightly crazy at my house.**_

 _ **Several readers commented on the fact that Sen. McCain died the same day as the last chapter was published. That was a coincidence...the chapter had been completed well before last Saturday.**_

 _ **Thanks for all the kind words...we're almost at the end of our journey...**_

* * *

As the truck made its way back down the dusty road towards the small village compound where Booth had been imprisoned, he took a few minutes to surreptitiously watch Darain, who was clearly angry about something that had occurred while they were talking to Answar...possibly something besides Answar's apparent disdain for his relatives. _Maybe Answar pulled a fast one on his cousin. It seems like my buddy here was blindsided by what was said...like maybe he didn't know anything about Answar's plans for me..._

After seeing the way Darain had followed the conversation between himself and Shalmani, Booth had the feeling that his jailer understood more English than his limited vocabulary might indicate. Relying on the years he'd spent honing his interrogation skills for the FBI, the Ranger decided to needle the man a bit to see if he could get a rise out of him with the hope of getting some answers...and perhaps even gaining an ally in the process.

"So your cousin's being a real goddamn dick, huh? Yeah, I get it...I've got a younger brother like that...he's a smart ass who thinks he knows it all...except he really isn't so smart, you know? Turns out he doesn't actually know much of anything. He's really just a very noisy jackass." Booth shrugged as he laughed softly. "Too bad for you, though...I mean, you've done all the hard work, right? And then the guy treats you like you're just a big pile of shit. I mean, you and your guys are the ones who had to spend the time and energy to come looking for me, and you've had to feed me and house me, too, probably on your own dime, but Answar's gonna get all the glory in the family for capturing an American soldier, and he's probably gonna get all the money, too, right? I guess he's asked the US government for a big ransom to get me back, and he'll get to keep it all...he probably won't share one rupee of it with you…" Booth pretended to sigh sadly. "I tell you what, Darain...I'm really impressed with how loyal you are to that rotten bastard...a lotta guys would've told him to go fuck himself a long time ago…"

"He is head of clan…", the man sputtered, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "He decides…I follow orders."

"Yeah, I get that. He decides on his own what to do, without caring who gets hurt by it, and the rest of you are left holding the bag when things go to hell. You know, when the Delta Forces show up to rescue me, do you think they're gonna be knocking on Answar's front door? Nope...they'll come right to your nice little compound there and burn that fucking place to the ground without a second thought. It'll be a big pile of rubble and ashes when they're through and, if you're still alive, you'll be left with nothing...not even two sticks to rub together. I hope your family doesn't live there with you, buddy. I'm thinking those young guys who helped bring me in are your sons, right? Nice looking kids...I hope they're not around when the Army shows up to take me home…or your wives and the little ones, either...man, it'd be hard to deal with if something happened to your sweet babies because of me. Unfortunately, when those operatives show up, they don't stop to ask who's who...they just charge in, guns blazing, blowing away _anyone_ who's in the way. But see...this is the hard part, isn't it? Answar doesn't give a single damn about that, as long as he gets his ransom money for me, right? He's willing to sacrifice all of you...you, your wives, your kids, your houses...it's just the price of doing business to him...he's probably got a lot of other clan members that can take your place if something happens to you..."

Booth sat silently for a few minutes, staring out the passenger window as he let his words and their meaning settle on Darain. Clearing his throat, he turned to the driver with a slight smile. "Look, buddy...I don't hold it against you that you picked me up, okay? I know you were just following orders from your cousin. In fact, I think it's probably a good thing you came along when you did. I'm not sure I would've made it much longer on my own anyway, and you've treated me pretty well, considering I'm your prisoner and all. That's why I want to do you a favor, okay? I don't want you or your family to go down just because your cousin Answar is being a reckless goddamn asshole, okay? So think about it...and then when you're ready to talk, maybe we can work something out so everyone gets out of this business safely."

Pursing his lips slightly, Darain gave Booth an appraising glance, as if trying to discern if the man sitting next to him was being sincere. Grunting softly as he steered the truck through the compound's entrance, he put the truck in park in front of the hut and turned off the engine. "No more talk right now. You go inside…"

As Booth climbed out of the truck, Darain took his arm and led him to the door. Opening it, he gestured for his prisoner to enter. "Food soon." As he turned to leave, he paused, a solemn expression on his face. "I will think about what you say." With that, he quickly left the room, locking the door behind him.

Sitting at the table in the fading afternoon light, Booth sighed softly to himself. Now all he could do was wait and hope that his words had made sense to his captor. It seemed that Darain had believed him, but he also had the loyalty to his clan to consider. _Family honor and clan allegiance means a lot in this part of the world...would he really be willing to give all that up for an American soldier like me? I guess I'll find out soon enough…_

Oooooooooo

Glancing at her phone while she walked through the maze of hallways which led towards the lab, Brennan was still quite annoyed with the matter at hand as it lay before her. It was early in the morning on January 3, and she was returning to work at the Jeffersonian after cutting short her year long sabbatical. Grateful to have challenging work to do in order to keep her mind off her troubles, she walked into her former office and turned on the computer. Watching as the screen flickered to life, she sighed softly in frustration.

She would've much rather been on the way to Pakistan, searching for Booth with the help of Answar Shalmani, but the logistics of her original plan had been impossible to manage, even for a person with her intelligence and the large amount of financial resources such as she possessed. She'd tried to change her plans, hoping to leave the UK and fly to Pakistan, but the trip from London to Peshawar was a thirteen hour ordeal, even if she could get a seat on the weekly flight, and it was impossible to say when she might be able to return from her trip once she arrived at her destination. Add to that the amount of terrorist activity in the region and the apparent inability of the local governments to protect their citizens from said activity, and it had become increasingly clear that searching for Booth by herself was neither logical or practical.

There was also the timing of her proposed trip to consider. She had already promised Cam she'd start work the first week in January because Dr. Moseman was becoming anxious to return to Israel for a few weeks so he could be present for the birth of his first grandchild. If she had tried to go to Pakistan to look for Booth, she couldn't say for certain when she would return, and that would leave Cam in the untenable position of being without any forensic anthropologist on staff at the Jeffersonian. As anxious as she was to find Booth, she respected Cam too much to leave her in that predicament.

Sitting at her desk, she quickly typed in her password and opened some of her old computer files in an effort to work, but she found it difficult to focus as her mind once again drifted to the remote possibility of undertaking a personal search for Booth in the area around Peshawar. Although she hated to admit it to herself, she knew that, in addition to the actual difficulties in arranging for a trip to the Peshawar area, there were personal issues as well, such as the fierce opposition the original plan had drawn from her best friend. _It seems I'm very concerned about what Angela thinks for some reason. Where is my independence? My self respect? I'm a grown woman...I can do what I want...even if it upsets her…even if she is my friend...why did I listen to her?_ Brennan sighed, knowing the answer to those questions. _Because she has my best interests at heart..._

 _*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/_

Brennan had called Angela from London almost immediately after her visit to Hannah's office, wanting to bring her best friend up to speed on Hannah's duplicity. "She was totally unrepentant about her role in our estrangement...Hannah was in no way concerned about how Booth and I might feel about losing our relationship with each other. In fact, it seemed to me as if she was almost blaming Booth for being such a loyal friend to me…evidently she'd given him some sort of ultimatum...a choice between herself and me...and he hesitated to make his decision known...and when he didn't choose her immediately, it made her quite angry... "

"Booth was so much more than just a loyal friend to you, Sweetie…and I'm sure that made her furious.", Angela interrupted. "She probably figured out the truth pretty quickly after she arrived in the States. I'm sure she realized it as soon as she saw you two together...when she saw how much Booth loves you. There was no missing that, okay? She knew that in Booth's mind, she couldn't hold a candle to you, so she reacted in a jealous rage in order to hurt both of you, and she didn't give a damn what happened afterwards. She could've given him up gracefully, but she was too angry to do so without causing a stink." Angela paused, laughing softly. "So...that's why you left home over Christmas, right? To have it out with that nasty bitch Hannah? I have to say, it's about time. Do you feel better now?"

"Somewhat. I'm glad I finally know the truth about her motives. I believe it was worth my time to make this trip, especially since she gave me the name of a contact in Pakistan who might know something about Booth's whereabouts. The man's name is Answar Shalmani...he's some sort of tribal chieftain, and he has a lot of contacts in the area…"

"No." Angela's tone was blunt and decisive. "Absolutely not."

"What? No?" Brennan was shocked at Angela's stern tone. "What do you mean 'no'? You don't even know what I'm about to say..."

"I mean no, you're not flying to Pakistan to look for Booth by yourself. Come on, Brennan...you know the State Department has issued a travel advisory for the region because how dangerous it is for Americans to go there, and as a woman traveling by herself…"

"I'm not afraid to travel by myself!", Brennan retorted angrily. "You know I've done so several times…I've been to places all over the world on my own. I've faced down all sorts of dangers...many people who were trying to do me harm while I was working on various digs...I've faced down secret police trying to hide atrocities...the Chinese Army...I don't need any help. I can do this..."

Angela could hear the steely resolve in Brennan's voice, but she was up to the challenge. "Listen, you don't even know for sure where this guy Shalmani is, right? After all, the tribal areas are as wild as the old American West used to be...maybe even worse. It's practically lawless there, alright? It's a big place to search, too. I mean, it isn't practical to just rent a car in Peshawar and start driving around the countryside looking for Booth, is it? You wouldn't have the slightest idea where to start…" Knowing Brennan was going to be hard to sway, the artist decided to play her trump card. "Besides, how do you think Booth would feel about it if you made the trip alone? He'd have a meltdown if he knew you were trying to look for him all on your own. He'd never want you to do that for him, right? You know how protective he is of you, Sweetie. I mean, suppose they find him and bring him home and then maybe he finds out you're missing in the tribals? Do you think he'd ever forgive himself? He'd want to turn around and go right back to get you..."

"The odds of me going missing in Pakistan are very miniscule, Angela…", Brennan began. "I think you're overreacting…"

"You're right. I suppose the odds are much higher that you'll be kidnapped and held for ransom in some remote place because you're a famous author, or that you'd be killed because you were caught in the middle of some sort of armed factional standoff in the tribal areas. Yeah, that's much more likely…and I'm sure Booth wouldn't mind one bit if something happened to the woman he loves because she became impatient and decided to handle things on her own..."

"I have to do something, Angela. I can't just sit around and wait for things to happen…" Brennan's voice dropped to a whisper. "I can't stand not knowing what's going on..."

"I know, Sweetie, but maybe I can help. I have an idea, okay?", Angela commiserated. "What did Hannah give you? Was it a physical address, or maybe the name of a town?"

"No, she gave me his email address. It seems he sends Hannah information about news from the area on a weekly basis via this email account, and then she can ask him follow up questions as necessary."

"Well, why not email him and see if he's heard anything about an American in the area before you go gallivanting around the Pakistani countryside? Wouldn't that be easier? It would certainly be cheaper."

"That's an excellent idea, Angela. I'll do that immediately…"

Angela could hear the excitement in her friend's voice. "Hang on just a minute, Brennan...let's be rational for a minute. I don't think you should send the message from your regular account, okay? It'd be better if you were to maintain your anonymity so he doesn't realize who you are...you know, that you're a best selling author with lots of money. No reason to give him the opportunity to take advantage of you...he might try to squeeze some major cash from you if he knows you're famous. Just look on the internet and sign up for one of those free email accounts first, and then make sure your email address is something that doesn't give any clues to who you are...so nothing with bones or murder." Angela paused for a few seconds. "Maybe you could make up an account name using something from your childhood. You said you liked rainbows as a little girl, so maybe you can use the word rainbow and joy together…"

Brennan's brows knit as she thought over the suggestion. "You mean something like Joy loves rainbows? Would that work? Or maybe daffodils on Jupiter...they are my favorites."

Angela chuckled at Brennan's choices. "Yeah, something like that. It'd probably work best if you call yourself Joy Keenan when you write the email…"

'I suppose so." Brennan sighed as she opened a search engine on her tablet. "Maybe I can tell him that I'm writing a book about the tribal areas of Pakistan and I want some information from him...what do you think?"

"That would probably be a good place to start. Just promise me you won't do anything rash, Brennan, okay? Come on home, and then maybe after the New Year you can go see Colonel Randall again…he might have some more news for you...maybe Shalmani will have contacted you by then and you can pass along the information."

"Alright...I promise...I'll wait until I hear something from Hannah's contact before I plan my trip to Peshawar." Brennan chuckled softly as she heard Angela's exasperated groan. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

It had been over a week since she'd arrived back in DC, and Brennan had yet to get an answer to her email query from Shalmani. She stared at her computer screen as if doing so would cause a message to pop up on her monitor, but, of course, nothing happened. _Okay then...enough procrastinating. I'm needed out on the lab platform…I'm sure I have work to do..._

She had risen from her desk to pull on her lab coat when she heard a knock on the door. She turned to see a security guard standing at the entrance to her office. "Yes? Can I help you?"

The man nodded politely. "You have some a visitor, Dr. Brennan...the gentleman apologizes for the intrusion, but he says it's urgent…a matter of great personal importance for you."

Startled at that announcement, Brennan leaned against her desk and nervously gripped the edge to steady herself. "Please show him in."

The guard ushered the camouflage clad man into her office. Walking in and sitting gingerly on the edge of the sofa, he flashed a radiant smile as he tried to manipulate the sling supporting his left arm. "My name is Akram Smith, Dr. Brennan...Master Sergeant Akram Smith, US Army…I hope I'm not bothering you by dropping in on you like this, but I was anxious to meet you. See, I was Booth's spotter on his latest mission...the last one he did in Afghanistan. He told me so much about you, ma'am. He's crazy about you..."

She couldn't help but smile at her visitor's comment. "Yes, I know. The feeling is mutual." Glancing at him with her practiced eye, she nodded to herself. _Eurasian...probably Afghani...like Hamid Masruk...but Sergeant Smith appears to have more Caucasian heritage than Hamid…_ Her interest piqued, she sat down opposite of her visitor. "So you helped him take down the warlord?"

"Yes, ma'am...I tell you what, it was an amazing thing. I mean, what a shot he made to take that clown out...it was long range...several hundred yards...and he was deadly accurate. He made it look so easy, you know?" Rami hesitated suddenly as he glanced at Brennan. "Of course, Booth...he killed the guy, you know, but that was his job…that's why we were there. That was our assignment." Squirming slightly as he glanced at Brennan, Smith was obviously uncomfortable with the topic. "I mean, Booth's a great guy, ma'am...it's not like he'd ever actually want to kill someone just for the hell of it…but those were our orders...and we were successful."

"I understand." She nodded as she spoke in a reassuring tone. "I appreciate your efforts to ease my mind about Booth being an excellent person as well as an excellent sniper, Sergeant Smith, but I am well aware of his talents…how accurate a shot he is. I am also aware that he has taken out several targets over his career, and I know how much it bothers him to do so. He doesn't take his assignments lightly, but he realizes that sometimes it's a job he must do."

"Yeah...okay." Wearing a sheepish grin, Rami shrugged. "I s'pose I knew that you'd know all about it, too, ma'am, seeing how you two are a couple and all...but did you know that Booth practically saved my life?" He pointed to the wounds on his left arm and shoulder. "I got hit in the upper arm when we were trying to get away from the warlord's place, and it was torn up real bad. He kept me from bleeding out and going into shock. He got me to the Bagram hospital as quick as he could without causing any more injuries. The doctors at the base and at Ramstein were all real impressed with how he handled things...they said he acted like a real pro. They said he used a lot of medical lingo, too...all sorts of mumbo jumbo about the names of bones and shi...stuff like that. He knew what to do to help me, and I'm really grateful for that."

"Thank you for telling me. It's nice to know how much he has learned from our time together." She cleared her throat softly, trying to blink back a tear. "I'm sorry...would you like some water or some coffee?"

"Oh, no ma'am...I can't stay. My wife's got our three little kids corralled over at Fisher House while I'm out running this errand, and things are crazy, you know? They're gettin' restless, wanting things to get back to normal. We're all going back to Texas in a couple of days. I'll be glad to get home so I can go back to my accounting business. The Army's gonna help me get some physical therapy around Abilene, where I live, so I'll be good as new in no time, I think." He sighed quietly as he pulled a letter from his pocket. "Listen, I've been trying to get ahold of Booth for the past couple of weeks, ma'am, ever since I got here to DC, and I'm kinda worried about him. I mean, he should've gotten home ahead of me by a couple of weeks." Seeing Brennan's confusion, Rami paused. "We made plans to get in touch with each other when we got home, but I was delayed in Germany while they patched me up. Anyway, Booth's not answering his phone for some reason…"

Biting her lip, Brennan studied her nails, avoiding Rami's concerned gaze. "Booth is missing in Pakistan, Sergeant Smith…"

"Son of a bitch!" Rami spat out the words angrily before realizing who he was talking to. "Sorry, ma'am...I don't normally cuss like that around ladies." He turned the envelope over in his hand as he spoke. "It's just that I should've known he was in trouble, okay? I vaguely remember him trying to talk to me right before I was shipped out to Germany...trying to tell me something about a trip he had to take, and he was upset, I think, but I was real hopped up on pain meds and I couldn't make sense of what he was saying. Then my wife found this letter in the bottom of my duffel bag...it's addressed to you…I mean, he told me he called you Bones, so naturally I assumed it was for you, and I decided to deliver it personally while I was still here in town." He handed the sealed envelope to her and stood up. "I think it must be real important since he made such an effort to get it to you, ma'am, so I'm gonna let you read it in peace. It was awfully nice to meet you, Dr. Brennan…"

"Thank you.", she said absentmindedly as she ran her fingers across the flap. "I'll tell Booth you came by when I see him again…"

"Yeah...thanks." Master Sergeant Smith was grim as he turned to leave. _I hope she really does get to see him again soon...but I'm not counting on it..._

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

To Brennan, it seemed as if the world around her had suddenly come to a stop. All she could see...all she could think about...was the envelope in her trembling hands...the envelope with _To Bones_ written across its front in Booth's distinctive block letters. After staring at his pet name for her a few seconds, she slowly loosened the flap and pulled out the sheet of paper inside, carefully unfolding it.

 _Dear Bones,_

 _Bad news...I've got a real problem to deal with over here, thanks to a nasty bastard named John Green. You might know the son of a bitch as Rick Carothers. Anyway, he's roped me into taking on a special sniper assignment in Pakistan, and unfortunately, for a lot of reasons I can't explain right now, I can't say no to him. You know I wouldn't normally let anyone or anything keep me away from you, but I have to go do this thing before I can come home. As soon as I can, I'm hopping on a plane for the States, and then I'm never going anywhere without you ever again...never again will I take on one of these jobs for the Army or the CIA or anyone else for that matter. Me and you are going to be together for good as soon as I can get back home._

 _I hope Smith got this letter to you soon enough so you won't worry too much about me. See you soon._

 _Love always,_

 _Booth_

"Rick Carothers!", she muttered to herself as she brushed away a tear. "He's behind this? That makes so much sense now." She quickly read through the letter again before making a call. "Yes, this is Dr. Temperance Brennan. I need to speak to one of your agents...Danny Beck. I need to talk to him as soon as possible, preferably in person. He's not available? Well, please give him my message. I need to talk to him immediately. Thank you."

Tossing the phone aside, she thought about the weeks since Booth had completed his job in Afghanistan...that was approximately six weeks ago. Now that she knew who to blame for her heartache, she was going to do everything in her power to make sure the man responsible would get what was coming to him.

Oooooooooo

Day was turning into evening as Booth sat alone in his hut, still contemplating his visit with Answar earlier in the day. Something just didn't seem right. _It's pretty obvious that the fucker hates John Green, but if that's true, why did he let one of his men shoot down my copter? After all, that's what Green wanted...I bet Answar didn't know until later that it was an American chopper...killing the pilot and the copilot and bringing down the bird with a RPG would sure put a big ass target on his back for Delta Force operatives...and it would be just like Green to keep that shit a secret until after the deed was done…and then that fucker would double cross Answar and rat him out to the CIA..._

He sat in the deepening darkness, trying to decide what to do next. He felt certain that Darain had taken his earlier comments to heart, but the question remained as to what the man would do about it. _Maybe I could ask to see him…take another shot at convincing him...yeah, I'll do that when the guard brings my dinner…ask to have him come see me...I guess I can make myself understood well enough..._

A half hour passed slowly as Booth waited for his meal, until finally he heard voices outside. "It's about time…", he muttered to himself. "I'm hungry…"

Used to the routine by now, he stood back away from door to let the guard in, and was surprised to see the man in question carrying his dinner instead. "Darain...I didn't expect to see you again so soon…"

Darain shrugged pensively as he pointed to the person with him. "My oldest son...you talk to him, Booth."

Offering a slight grin, Booth acknowledged the younger man. "Yeah...I rode in the back of the truck with you, right?"

"Yes. I am Ehsan." He nodded towards his father. "I speak better English than him...I learned a lot at school. He wants me to tell you some things."

"What things?" Booth narrowed his eyes at his captors. "I don't understand…"

"About Answar...about being safe." Ehsan turned to his father, who spoke animatedly in Urdu. "Father says you are an honest man, and he trusts you. He wants to protect his family from harm, so he will help you." The young man paused, listening again. "The first plan was that Answar was going to let the Americans know you are here...for no ransom...because it was the right thing." Ehsan's father grabbed his arm and told him something else...something that seemed to make him upset. "But Answar found out Green knows you...that you did some work for him, and now he wants to make a trade...your life in exchange for Green's."

Booth puffed out an exasperated sigh as he shook his head. "My government doesn't negotiate with terrorists, but even if they did, they wouldn't turn over one American citizen for another...not even to a head of a clan, no matter how big that clan is…"

"Father knows that...he tries to tell Answar that, but Answar is determined to do this…" Ehsan asked his father a question and then turned back to Booth. "My father's cousin blames this Green man for his father's death...it was many years ago. Answar wants his revenge...he will stop at nothing…he will hold you for as long as it takes until he gets Green."

"Yeah, Green has a way of making people really angry." Sitting down at the table, Booth eyed the two men standing in front of him, trying to decide if they were telling him the truth. "Why does your father want me to know this? Why is he willing to sell out his cousin? I really don't want to get in the middle of a family feud…"

"Father is afraid that the American Army will come looking for you and that would put our family in danger. He would like to help you leave this place."

 _So he did listen to me! He believed what I said...good…_ Clearing his throat, Booth nodded in agreement. "Yeah, those guys don't fuck around. So what does your father want me to do?"

The young man wore a serious expression as he gestured towards his father. "He wants to tell your government where you are, and then when they come for you we will be away from here. We will be out of the way so no harm will come to us and our buildings will be safe, too."

"You know what? That might just work...except I think it'll work better if I let them know where I am, so they'll believe me instead of thinking it's you who are holding me against my will." Seeing Darain's hopeful expression, Booth quirked an eyebrow. "Ask your father if that's all he wants."

After conversing with his father, Ehsan shrugged as he turned back to the Ranger.. "Perhaps the Army can get rid of Answar for us...so my father could be head of the clan…"

"Like maybe a drone strike? Something like that...something the Pakistani militia can't trace back to the US? I don't know if they'll go that far, but I guess it doesn't hurt to ask. Do you have a laptop computer?"

"I will go get it." Ehsan quickly left the room, jogging away from the hut.

Booth reached out to shake Darain's hand. "I bet we can make a deal...at least to get your family to safety…"

"Good." Visibly relieved, Darain sat down opposite of Booth. "We will make plans?"

"Yeah...yeah, we will make plans. Hey, have you got a map?"

Ehsan came racing through the door, carrying a battered dinosaur of a laptop which he handed to Booth.

"Do you have the internet out here, this far from the city?", Booth asked as he waited for the old computer to stir to life. "I want to send an email."

"We have a hot spot and an antenna.", Ehsan proudly explained. "I take some school lessons that way. It is slow, but it will work."

As he waited for the computer to connect the internet, Booth mused over his options. He really wanted to send an email to his Bones, but he didn't want to give her any false hope. _I gotta make arrangements to get home first, and my connection may not stick...It'll be better to email Danny first… he can get the Army or the CIA on the job…and then they'll get me home to Bones._

Typing quickly, he sent a note to his friend.

 _Hey, Beck…_

 _You'll never guess what happened. I'm stuck in some guy's compound here in Pakistan. It's a long story, so here's the condensed version. He wants to know if you guys could ask the Army to come pick me up sometime when his family isn't here...like maybe in a couple of days. He'd like it if you could let him know in advance via email at this address so they can be long gone. They don't want any trouble...they just want to be rid of me. So let me know what day works best, and they'll clear out and I'll be here waiting for a ride home. He's a good guy...I trust him. Like I said...long story..._

 _He'd also like it if you could arrange a drone strike on his cousin, Answar Shalmani. Shalmani is the guy responsible for taking down the chopper I was on…he's the one responsible for holding me against my will. He's also been scrambling the intel you get from the area. His house is about 10 minutes north of my present location. It's a big place, and you can't miss it. I think it'd be worth your while to replace the guy with the guy who's holding me. He'd make a better source for the CIA than Shalmani._

 _My location in Pakistan is approximately 33.99 degrees N and 71.39 degrees E, about 15 miles southwest of Jamrud, in a small walled compound just outside of a little village. The Army can probably spot it with a reconnaissance drone before they make the trip. I'm being well taken care of, but I'm ready to hit the road, if you know what I mean...Shalmani is calling the shots, and he's not too fond of me. I don't trust him...he says I'm safe, but why take chances?_

 _And just so you know it's really me, Beck, I'm gonna remind you of the time we were on leave in Kuwait City all those years ago. Me and you and those two cute Irish nurses, Eileen and Aifa, went for jeep ride out in the sticks...remember? We were gonna have a picnic, and then you and Eileen went for a 'walk', and you got all those sand fleas in your shorts? Your crotch itched for days from all those bites, right? Good times, Buddy…_

 _So come get me. I hope to see your ugly mug soon._

 _Seeley J. Booth_

 _Sergeant Major_

 _United States Army._

Shrugging in resignation, he turned to Darain and Ehsan as he hit send. "Now we just wait to see what happens…"

Oooooooooo

Danny Beck was sitting at a table in a conference room in the State Department headquarters, listening as Alex Radziwell and Colonel Jack Randall tried to hash out what to do about the ransom demand Booth's abductors had made.

"We can't do it, Jack. Sorry, but we can't give up one of our own citizens for another…"

Rolling his eyes, Danny sighed. "Not even if the guy wants John Green? Come on, Alex. You know Green's a piece of shit. Trust me...the CIA would be glad to get rid of him."

Raising his voice, Alex turned angrily to the younger man. "Fine. If you guys don't want him, you take him out. But I'm not willing to set the precedent of allowing some terrorist organization to pick up some random person to exchange for another. None of our citizens would ever be safe abroad...we can't afford to do this..."

"Did this Shalmani fella ask for any money?", the Colonel asked. "I mean, that would make more sense…"

"Nah…all he wants is Green." Danny grimaced as he opened a file on his computer. "The guy is looking for vengeance...it says here in Green's file that he had dealings with old man Shalmani...Answar's father. I guess the old man was supposed to broker a deal with his fellow clan members so we'd be able to put a listening post within their perimeter, but when the money didn't come through as planned after the installation, somebody took the old guy out for being a traitor to the clan, I guess. The money was given to Green so he could back the deal, and he swore he used it to pay the guy, but there was always a question of what had really happened to all of it...like whether or not Green pocketed a big chunk of change and then left the elder Shalmani holding the bag. The Company couldn't find any proof of misdoing on Green's part, so the matter was dropped…"

"So he just wants Green. Fucking hell…", Randall growled. "Well...okay. If that's the way he wants it, we'll just have to send some boys into the tribals to find our man. I'm not leaving him behind just because of this mother fucker Green…and I'm not gonna lose him just because our State Department is in a pissing contest with the Pakistani government. It can't be that hard to figure out where Shalmani is holed up, so we just go take him out and pick up Booth..."

"Listen, Jack...we can't go stomping all over the tribals without the Islamabad's permission, and getting that permission will take some time. That's just the way it is. They're suspicious of our motives in the area anyway, and if we tell them we want to go to all this trouble for one man, they'll think we really want something else instead. No...we have to go slow...we have to cover our asses first." Alex rubbed his chin as he glanced at Danny. "Besides, even if we wanted to make the exchange, we don't even know where John is, do we, Beck?"

"Not really. He was recalled to the States several weeks ago, but he hasn't shown up yet. So even if we wanted to send him to Shalmani, we can't right now…and there is the fact that Green may face charges here in the States for various fuck ups. We've got operatives out looking for him, but Green's a wily bastard. I won't be surprised to hear that he's gone off the reservation…'

Colonel Randall snorted in disgust. "Fine. I'll call the Delta Forces Commander in Afghanistan and find out if there's a platoon of our boys available in the region. Alex, you call Islamabad and get permission for our hunting trip. Tell them it's an emergency. I'm tired of waiting around. Booth may be in mortal danger, and you're worried about hurting the Pakistanis' feelings instead of getting him back, right? Well, that shit isn't gonna fly any more. It's time to take action. We need to go look for our man right now." He pulled up a map of the area on his computer and jabbed at the screen with his finger. "We'll start with searching a 10 mile perimeter around Peshawar and expand outward…we can use drones to look for suspicious activity...we'll go house to house if necessary..."

"And just how long do you think that would take, Colonel? Months? Years?" Alex slammed his fist on the table. "We have to solve this problem through diplomatic channels. I'll call Islamabad again…see if they've heard anything...that's the way it has to be, Jack...it'll be so much easier to find Booth quickly with the Pakistanis on our side instead having them working against us..."

Growing restless as the other men heatedly discussed what to do about retrieving Booth, Danny glanced at his computer and saw the email icon pop up on his monitor. _Probably Dr. Brennan...she won't let this thing with Green drop…she wants his ass kicked, too._ Furtively clicking to open his message, he was surprised to read the subject line.

 **Danny...I need your help.**

Not recognizing the email address, he quickly skimmed the message. Dumbfounded, he stared at the other two men at the table with his mouth agape for a few seconds before blurting out his news.

"Son of a bitch. Hey, guys! I know where Booth is!"

* * *

 _ **One more chapter to go. Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated. Laura.**_


	26. Chapter 26

_**A/N: here we go...the last chapter of our story. It's a long one, but I think it'll tie everything together nicely as the story ends. Thanks for hanging in there as I've told this tale. I appreciate it. Laura.**_

* * *

"What the fuck are you talking about, Danny?" Alex walked over to where the CIA agent was sitting. "How the hell do you know where Booth is? There's no way..."

"Well, believe it or not, he just sent me an email with the approximate coordinates of his location…" Danny quickly scrawled the numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to Colonel Randall. "He thinks maybe the Army can use a drone to find the exact location of the compound. He also says that it was Shalmani who was responsible for taking down the chopper that Booth was supposed to be on...shit...I guess Shalmani has been giving us bad intel for quite awhile, too…"

Suddenly Danny was bombarded with questions from the two men at the table.

"How do you know it's really him that sent the email? Did he say anything about Green?" Alex's curiosity was certainly piqued by Beck's announcement. "Does he know where Green is? What else does he say about Shalmani?"

Colonel Randall began to pace the room, requesting tactical information. "How long has Booth been there? Is he in good health? Is he injured? Who's holding him? How many of them are there? What are their fortifications? How do they defend the place?"

"He didn't say anything about Green in the message, Alex, but I'd imagine that fucker has his hands all over this mess." Skimming through the message again, Beck spoke to Colonel Randall. "Booth is suggesting that you guys come pick him up at the place where he's been staying, and then maybe take out Shalmani's compound with a drone strike. The hard part of the operation will be that he needs a time frame of when that action is scheduled to take place so he can tell the guy he's staying with...Booth has promised he would protect the man and his family in exchange for his own safety and for having a way to contact us…he wants to make good on his deal..."

Randall nodded resolutely as he began to pick up his scattered papers. "I'll get right on it, Danny. Hopefully, we can have it ready in the next few days. Does he say how much warning he needs to give the man?"

Danny scratched his chin as he studied the email. "I'd say a day or two. It's gonna be tricky, okay? They don't want to leave too early and tip off Shalmani that something is up, but evidently there's a lot of people and stuff to move…"

"Right. Okay, then...we'll aim for 96 hours...4 days from now. That should give us time to get our guys in place…"

"Wait...wait just a minute." Thoroughly irritated, Alex rolled his eyes at Jack Randall. "We have to get the okay from Islamabad before you do anything, Colonel…you guys can't just go charging in there like Marshall Dillon or Wyatt Earp...we gotta coordinate things with the home team..."

"Fine!", Randall growled. "You get that fucking Pakistani Ambassador or Prime Minister or whoever the hell you need to talk to on the phone right now, goddammit, and tell them we're gonna be there in that approximate area in about 4 days, whether they like it or not. In fact, ask them if they wanna go with us, okay? Maybe it'll make them feel better if they can hold our hands when we go waltzing in there. After all, we don't wanna stir up any of their precious dust without their permission." Groaning in exasperation, the colonel turned to Danny. "I'm not sure what to tell you about getting the drone strike on Shalmani's place, Beck. That's not really my call, but I'll pass the word along to special ops and see what they say…although I think they'd probably like to get the fucker alive if they could. He could probably give us a lot intel about the other tribal leaders in the area...like who's helping terrorists and such...maybe he'd cooperate to avoid going to Gitmo for the rest of his life."

"Well, you can tell the brass that the CIA wants to take this guy Shalmani down one way or the other, okay? I mean, I know he's probably more valuable to all of us alive, but he dropped that helicopter using an RPG, killing two American soldiers and another unidentified man in the process. He's been interfering with our intelligence operations on the sly, like a fucking terrorist, plus he's kidnapped one of our citizens with the intention of holding him for ransom, and that's just the shit we know about right now. Who knows what else the guy has done? I say we get rid of him to make a statement to the rest of the guys running families in the tribals. Pakistan is known as a hotbed of terrorism, so we need to send a big fucking message about not messing with the US." Danny shrugged as he sat back in his chair. "That's the Army's call, though...I know a lot depends on how the operation goes…on who's available..."

"You're right...a lot of it depends on how it all goes down over there. Just one more question, okay, Danny?" Colonel Randall glanced over at Alex thoughtfully before he continued. "My superiors are gonna wanna know why you're so sure Sergeant Major Booth sent this email, okay? I mean, this message could just be a load of bullshit designed to draw our boys into a trap. I gotta have proof…"

Sighing softly, Danny squirmed slightly in his chair as he remembered the incident that Booth had mentioned. _Jesus...I've never scratched so much in my entire goddamn life. I itched for days...but, damn, being with Eileen was worth it…_ "I know it's good intel because the message included a reminder of a personal incident which happened to me...an incident only Booth would know about. Besides, I recognize Booth's style...he's sent me plenty of emails over the years, and he always begins them with 'Hey, Beck'. This message doesn't seem like it was written under duress, either. It's almost chatty, and it's got some colloquialisms in it that a non-English speaker probably wouldn't use if they were writing something. Listen, this is what I do, okay? I'm sure it's legit…"

"Okay...if you say so, that's good enough for me…" The colonel stood up and turned to face Danny and Alex. "I'm on my way over to the Pentagon right now with this intel. Hopefully I can get a green light on this project by this afternoon, and then I'll email you a timeline for our project, which you can then forward to Booth. Thanks for your help, Beck…we're anxious to have our man back home."

"No problem, Jack. I hope to hear from you soon." Danny sighed softly as he closed his office door. "What do you think, Alex? Are the Pakistanis gonna go along with us on this one?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm pretty sure the bigwigs in Islamabad want to make an example of Shalmani...they don't like the tribal chieftains acting like they own the whole fucking country, you know? I mean, they probably won't care if we go pick up Booth, and as for the drone strike...well, I may forget to mention it next time I call." Alex gave Danny a big grin. "How's that for diplomacy?"

"I like it. Now if I could just figure out where Green has run off to…" Danny sat back in his chair, studying the man before him. "Is there any way to track a passport? Like can your guys tell when it was used last?"

"Not really. Besides, how many passports does Green have? He'd probably just use an alias if he wanted to hide somewhere." Alex grunted in annoyance as he sat down at the table. "Is there anyway to figure out what he was working on last?"

"I'm not sure." Exasperated, Danny shook his head as he thought over the problem. "You know, the whole reason we're in this fucking mess is because Green wanted Booth to take out an American operative who'd married a woman with ties to the illegal arms manufacturing families in Dara Adam Khel. I've looked all through Green's dossier...he never had orders from The Company to actually do that...the operation didn't have the green light from above. He decided to end Grigsby on his own, so now the question becomes why? Why go to all this trouble? It was no skin off Green's ass if Grigsby rode off into the sunset…he really had no reason to pull the trigger on the guy..."

"Unless he was trying to throw the arms manufacturing in the area into chaos to serve his own purposes. Based on what I've heard from my sources in Pakistan, there's been a lot of infighting going on between the various clans and families in the area since that car bomb went off in Peshawar several weeks ago and took out some of the top players. I guess it's been a bloodbath...everyone jockeying for position to see who's gonna run the show, leaving a lot of casualties along the way." Alex tapped a pencil on the table as he studied a map of the area on his tablet. "Who else would want Grigsby dead? More importantly, who else would want to cause an upheaval in the area? There's a lot of money to be made in the manufacture and sale of those knock off weapons, especially if they can be passed off as the real deal. Who'd have the balls to pull off that sort of operation?"

"I don't know for sure...maybe the Indians? They're always looking to stir the pot in Pakistan…"

After thinking over the suggestion, Alex shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so...that's not their style. This is way too subtle to be those guys. I don't think this is a political play anyway...I think it's all being done strictly for money. So who's most apt to want to take over the area quietly so they can make a lot of money? When we figure that out, we'll probably know where to find Green."

"Maybe so." Hearing his phone buzz, Danny groaned. "Jesus...Dr. Brennan again. I gotta take this…"

"Okay, but don't mention Booth…the fewer people who know, the better off we'll be." Alex picked up some files and his tablet. "I'll be in touch."

Sighing softly, Danny answered his phone. "Agent Beck...oh yes, Dr. Brennan. What can I do for you?"

Oooooooooo

Two days had passed since Booth had received an answer to his email, and he'd finally begun to let himself hope that his ordeal in Pakistan would be over soon. He'd watched with interest as Darain and his family had packed all of their belongings into the beds of several pickup trucks so they could be out of the way when the Army arrived to pick up their missing comrade. Bedding, cooking utensils, clothing, chairs and tables, livestock...everything they owned, except for the sparse furnishings in Booth's small room...all of it was stacked onto the trucks.

Since he was no longer considered a prisoner, Booth had helped the family as needed, assisting Darain's sons as they took down their satellite dish from one of the adjacent rooftops and even chasing down a goat that had managed to scamper away from his host's ten year old daughter. After what seemed like hours of nonstop activity, it finally appeared that Darain's extended family was ready to leave the compound and move to a safe haven.

Standing in the hut's doorway, Darain smiled as he gestured toward the table. "I leave water and food for you here." Bowing, he uncovered a plate of roasted meat, rice pilaf, and some grilled vegetables with a flourish. "Enough?"

Touched by Darain's generosity, Booth nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes, plenty. I think it's more than enough. The Army should be here some time tomorrow." Bending down to sniff the pleasant aroma coming from the meal, Booth grinned. "Smells good." As he pinched off a piece of meat, he pointed to the trucks outside. "Are you ready? Where will you go?"

"Over the hills." Darain pointed to the road leading south of the compound. "By where we found you. To my brother."

"I see. Well, I should be gone in a day or two and then you can come back home for good." Booth sighed contently as he sat down at the table. "Hey, man...I'm grateful for what you've done for me. I wish I could repay you somehow..."

"I thank you, too. I bring you a present." Seeing Booth's surprise, Darain turned and called to his eldest son. "Ehsan...come."

Ehsan and his younger brother brought a struggling man into the room. Yelling angrily, Answar Shalmani glared at his cousin. "You are a dead man, Darain…"

Laughing quietly, Darain shrugged. "Someday...yes. Today...no." Raising an eyebrow at Booth, he nodded towards his cousin. "I will leave him for your Army...as thanks for our safety."

"I'm sure they'll be happy to have him...maybe that way they won't have to call in a drone, and you might be able to move into his nice big house after all." Booth smirked at Shalmani as the man tried to escape from the young man's grasp. "I suppose you have a nice hut for him to stay in while you're gone, right?"

"Yes...next to here." Ehsan stepped forward and explained his father's plan. "We will leave food and water in his room for him. You will put him in the room and then lock the door so he stays inside. Here is the key. He will be fine for a few days…and then your Army can take him away when you leave. This way we cannot be accused of killing a clan leader, and the change will be easier...my father can take over for him once he is gone for good."

"I gotta say...that's pretty smart." Pocketing the key, Booth continued. "Maybe you should tell the members of your clan he went with the Army willingly, right? Make it sound like he's a traitor, so they don't want him back. After all, it's not like he'll be here to defend his actions." Smirking at Answar's agitation, Booth crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, then...I'll make sure we take your cousin with us when they come pick me up." Smiling happily, he reached out to shake Darain's hand. "Good luck, buddy. Stay out of trouble, okay?"

Darain nodded before turning away. "I will. Our family will be friends to the US. No more trouble." He stopped and waved at Booth. "Goodbye, my friend."

"Goodbye." Listening as the trucks outside the hut rumbled to life, Booth glanced at Shalmani, who was still struggling against his restraints. "I tell you what, Answar...you're lucky Darain didn't slit your throat." Grabbing the slender man's arm, the Ranger pulled him out of the hut. "Let's go check out your new digs…"

Oooooooooo

Sergeant Carlisle pursed his lips as he glanced over at Corporal Sinclair, who was squinting through some binoculars at the small group of houses on the plain below them. "See anything, Larry? The whole place looks dead to me."

Looking down on the deserted compound from their vantage point atop a ridge, Corporal Sinclair shook his head as he handed the binoculars back to the sergeant. "Not even a fucking chicken, Sarge...no signs of life at all. Are you sure this is the right location? That place is a goddamn ghost town..."

Holding binoculars up to his face, Carlisle shrugged. "It's the closest habitation to the coordinates we were given, so I'd say yeah...it's gotta be the place, but you're right...it sure looks deserted." As he lowered the field glasses, the sergeant ran his hand over his chin, contemplating the scene before him. "Of course, we were supposed to give the people who lived there time to evacuate, but still...it's almost too quiet, isn't it? It's kinda creepy...almost like something from the _Twilight Zone._ " Shaking his head, he turned to his second in command. "Here's what we're gonna do. We're not gonna take any chances, just in case it's a set up. We're gonna go in on foot, in stealth mode, so there won't be a lot of noise to alert anyone who may be hiding out, and then we'll go building to building to look for our man. It sounds crazy, but supposedly he knows we're coming…from what the Captain said, this fella sorta made an appointment via email for us to come pick him up, kinda like calling a cab. Wild, huh? I sure hope Command knows what they're doing. I really don't feel like walking into some fucking bear trap today."

"I hear that.", Sinclair exclaimed. "Okay, I'll get the guys together." He whistled softly to the men standing at the bottom of the ridge, waving them over to him. "Hey, guys...Sarge says silent double time down to the compound...watch for surprises...be careful who you shoot at. We're supposed to have one of our own guys waiting for us down there. Thatcher...you bring the truck down and park it off to the side over there to the left...outta sight, okay?...we don't know if our guy is hurt or not. We may need some transportation."

Muttering softly among themselves, the men shouldered their gear, on high alert as they got ready to attempt the hostage's rescue. Finally Carlisle gave the signal. "Let's move out."

The squad jogged quietly down the ridge, making sure to carefully check on their surroundings as they went, painfully aware that an unfriendly welcome might show up from any quarter. After several minutes, they had their weapons ready as they quietly entered the compound.

"Son of a bitch!" Sergeant Carlisle couldn't help but grin at the man sitting on a bench outside of a mud hut. Lowering his rifle, he offered a salute. "Are you Sergeant Major Booth?"

Rising to shake hands with his liberators, Booth was smiling from ear to ear. "I'm so goddamn happy to see you guys!" Unashamed, he paused as he brushed away tears of relief. "Thanks for coming to get me, Sergeant. I know it's kinda outta the way…oh, sorry." Quickly returning the salute, he bit his quivering lip as he struggled to keep his composure. "It's been a long couple of weeks, you know, and I was beginning to think it wouldn't end well for me. I appreciate this, fellas…" He looked over the well armed soldiers standing behind Corporal Sinclair. "I guess this was sorta anticlimactic, wasn't it? I mean, you guys were ready for battle and it's all over without even a shout…"

"Our pleasure, Sergeant Major. We're just glad to find you in one piece, and if we can do this bit without a fight, so much the better. So, if you're ready, let's hit the road so you can get home. I imagine your family's anxious to see you…"

"Just a minute…" Booth pointed to the tiny hut next to his. "We've got to take someone else with us."

Unlocking the building's door, Booth dragged an angry Answar Shalmani out into the bright sunlight. "This bastard has a lot of explaining to do if he wants to avoid solitary in Gitmo. Give me some of those zip ties, Corporal." After binding Answar's hands behind his back, Booth turned to Sergeant Carlisle. "So what did the Brass decide about the drone strike?"

Shrugging, the sergeant shook his head. "No go. The Pakistanis were all atwitter about someone blowing up a perfectly good house in the tribals, I guess...they don't want to stir up any more trouble with the folks living out here. They'd rather look the other way and keep the peace, it seems. Anyway, it looks like we ended up with what we wanted, whether they like it or not." Carlisle grinned as he watched his men put Shalmai into the back of the truck. "Why? Thinking about making it your summer home?"

"Nah...I was hoping they'd leave it be so that the guy who helped me out could move into it. I bet our buddy there is gonna be real happy to learn that his 'ne'er-do-well' cousin is gonna take over the family business." Closing his eyes, Booth sighed heavily as he leaned against the truck's cab. "Hey, if you don't mind...could we discuss this on the way home, Carlisle? I'm kinda tired of standing around out here. I need a hot shower and a real bed…"

"You bet, Sarge. Hey, Sinclair...crank this baby up. Let's get Sergeant Major Booth to back to Bagram."

Oooooooooo

Danny Beck could hardly contain his emotions as he jogged up the steps of the Jeffersonian. After checking in with the security desk, he quickly made his way to the lab, knocking on Cam's office door. "Dr. Saroyan? Is Dr. Brennan around? I need to speak to her right away."

Recognizing Danny as Booth's friend from the CIA, Cam gasped out loud. "Oh, my God...Booth...he's not...did you come to break some bad news to Brennan? Here at work? Oh, no…you can't..."

Holding up his hands to interrupt, he was quick to reassure the pathologist. "No...it's not like that...I just really need to see Dr. Brennan, okay? Is she on the lab platform? Because I don't have access to it…"

Quickly grabbing her badge and keys, Cam puffed out a small sigh. "Of course...right this way."

Walking briskly across the facility, Cam came to the steps of the platform where Brennan was examining a set of remains. Oblivious to anything else, the anthropologist was focused on the femur of the deceased as she explained her findings to Angela and Hodgins. "This extreme pattern of pitting on the surface of the femoral head indicates the presence of advanced osteoarthritis...unusual for a person this age...there may have been environmental factors at work as well as the disease. Hodgins, check the bone composition and measure the calcium to phosphorus ratio along with the isotope levels in the matrix. This person may have been exposed to some sort of toxin over a long period of time."

Clearing her throat nervously, Cam used her badge to access the platform. "Excuse me, Dr. Brennan...you have a visitor…"

Her heart pounding in her chest, Brennan's eyes widened as she looked up from the skeleton. "Agent Beck…do you have news...about Booth?"

"Yes. Colonel Randall regrets…"

"Oh, no…", Brennan groaned softly. "Not that...not Booth…" She grabbed the edge of the examination table to steady herself. "No...no…"

"Please...just let me finish." Danny inhaled sharply, hoping to remain calm. "Colonel Randall regrets that he couldn't inform you himself, but unfortunately he had other urgent business to attend to this morning. Anyway, he has asked me to tell you that they've found Booth. He's alive...he's safe, and apparently, considering everything that's happened over the last few weeks, he's in pretty good shape. They've taken him to the base at Bagram for observation. He'll be there for a day or two before they send him on to Germany for further examination and debriefing. The colonel wonders if you'd like to go to Ramstein, Dr. Brennan…the Army will make arrangements for you to travel there to be with Booth at the base hospital, if you'd like..."

"Oh, Sweetie...that's so wonderful!" Angie rushed to embrace her best friend. "He's okay...I'm so happy!"

"Yeah! That's great news!" Hodgins beamed happily as he took Brennan's hand. "I never doubted Booth for a minute! I knew he'd make it…"

Quivering uncontrollably as she dealt with the overwhelming onslaught of emotions and adrenaline, Brennan stood speechless for a few seconds before turning to Cam. "I'm sorry, Dr. Saroyan, but I'll need some time off. I know it's awkward now that Dr. Moseman is out of the country, but…"

"Don't worry about it." Cam patted Brennan's shoulder. "You take all the time you need...the lab will still be here after you bring Booth home."

"Thank you." Finally allowing herself to smile, Brennan nodded slowly. "I think I'd like to take the Army up on its offer, Agent Beck. How soon can I leave?"

"Let's see...today's Monday...so let's say Wednesday evening? That would put you in to Ramstein early Thursday morning...you might even beat Booth there, but not by much…"

"Very well. Wednesday evening...that's good. That'll give me time to finish my examination." She turned back to the femur. "As I was saying…"

A meaningful glance passed between Angela and Cam as they listened to their friend's description of the skeleton's unusual pattern of wear. They both knew how happy and relieved she was, even if she wasn't entirely sure how to express those feelings herself.

Oooooooooo

"Where's my uniform?", Booth growled as he sat on the edge of the hospital. "I need my goddamn pants…c'mon, hurry up..."

"Just a minute, Sarge…calm yourself down.", the nurse drawled as she looked through his locker. "I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were dressing for your wedding day…"

"Yeah, well, you never know, right? I mean, I may just grab my girlfriend and make a run for the chaplain's office to take care of that little detail before she changes her mind about me."

As he watched the nurse bustle around the tiny room, he chuckled as he remembered Captain Jarvis' visit while he was still at the Bagram base hospital. _She was so happy to see me...I'm glad I had someone like her on my side...she said she had told Colonel Randall what was going on..._

Booth had mentioned making things permanent with Bones when he returned home, and the chaplain was bound and determined to officiate at his wedding someday. _Yeah, I can just imagine me and Bones flying back to Afghanistan to get married...although maybe the Captain could come to the States...maybe she could get leave...but she's not Catholic...close...but…we could probably find a priest who'd let her help at the ceremony...whoa...getting way ahead of myself here...not sure what Bones wants yet..._

His musings were interrupted as a pair of camouflage pants landed next to him on the bed. "There you go, Sarge. Need some help getting them britches up over that scrawny ass of yours?"

"No, thank you, ma'am. I got this." He quickly finished dressing and checked his reflection in the bathroom's tiny mirror. "I guess I look okay...damn, I need a haircut bad…it's sticking up in every direction, but she'll be here any minute..."

"Trust me, your girlfriend isn't gonna care about what your hair looks like. She's just gonna be happy to see you, and she'll be glad to get you home, okay? And then you two will probably be too busy over the next few weeks to worry about it, right?" Wearing a sly grin, the nurse stepped out into the hallway for a few seconds. "Here we go...have a seat, Sarge…your chariot awaits."

"No way...I'm not riding in that damn wheelchair when I go see my girlfriend for the first time in two months. She'll fret about it too much. I'm not a cripple, you know. I can walk just fine..."

"Doctor's orders...he wants you off those banged up feet of yours until the swelling has completely gone down…" The nurse grew stern as she pointed at her lieutenant's insignia. "Don't make me pull rank on you, Sarge…"

"Oh, hell...alright, but only as far as the hallway, okay? When we get to the room where I'm gonna meet her, I'm gonna walk on my own...I don't want her to think I'm in bad shape…"

"Fine. Just go slow, okay?" The nurse steered the wheelchair through several corridors until they came to a hall that opened into a sunny waiting area. "Okay...now take it easy. You might still feel a little weak…you were undernourished for quite awhile...it's gonna take some time to get your strength back."

"I feel fine, okay? And I'll feel a helluva lot better when I see my Bones."

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Pacing nervously, Brennan kept an eye on the entrance to the hospital's bright visitors' area, knowing that Booth would be there any minute. The anticipation was intense...almost more than she could bear.

She had willed herself to be strong, knowing that he might've suffered some injuries or mistreatment at the hands of his captors. _I can't be shocked...can't act afraid or worried. He's going to be okay...perhaps it'll take some time, but he's going to be okay…and then we can move on with our lives together...we'll spend many years together, he and I..._

Her last thought caught her by surprise. Thinking about spending years...perhaps the rest of her life...with Booth used to be something she had dismissed as unlikely. _Relationships don't last that long...marriage is an antiquated ritual, and yet...I can't imagine being apart from Booth again...I'll always be committed to him…if he wants me..._

She paused to gaze out the window overlooking the hospital's courtyard. "I think it would make Booth very happy if we were to be married…", she mumbled to herself. "...and I think it would make me happy as well..."

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

As Booth came to the end of the hall, he quickly glanced around the room. Finally his face lit up with joy as he saw the woman he loved. "Bones! Bones! Over here!"

"Booth! Oh, Booth!" She rushed toward him, her arms extended in an embrace. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you…I've missed you so much!" She blinked back her tears as she looked up at him, thrilled to be in his arms again. "I'm so glad you're safe…"

He pulled her into a passionate kiss. "Jesus, Bones...you don't know how long I've waited for this moment...I love you so much…I'm not gonna leave you ever again." He wiped tears from his eyes before gently caressing her cheek. "I...I'm so happy to see you, too…" He bent down to kiss her again. "I was so afraid I wouldn't make it back, you know...but here I am...God, I'm so happy…I've got so much to say to you, but it's all jumbled together...so...I love you..."

"Here...come sit down." Brennan led him over to a nearby sofa. "Let me look at you." Her fingers gently worked their way down his cheeks as she gazed into his warm brown eyes. "You're quite thin...but other than that you seem uninjured…"

"Yeah, I got stranded in Pakistan and I went for several days without enough to eat, but, you know...it's nothing that a few good meals can't fix." He pointed down at his hospital issued slippers. "The doctor said my feet were pretty beat up by all the walking I did after I got marooned, but he thinks I'll make a full recovery. I'll be able to go back to work in no time."

"I don't understand...you were stranded? What happened?" Brennan's voice broke with emotion as she took his hand in hers. "The Army didn't give me all of the details...they just told me you were missing…"

"Well, it's kind of a long story, and I promise I'll fill you in on the details eventually, but I don't want to talk about that right now. How have you been? How's Parker? Man, I hated that I missed having Christmas with him…" Staring at their clasped hands, Booth shook his head. "I'm sorry I was gone for longer than I'd planned, but stuff happened that I had no control over…" He choked back a silent sob. "But I want you to know...what kept me going through everything that happened to me was how badly I wanted to get home to you...I knew I had to make it home to see you again, Bones...no matter what it took, I knew I needed to make it home to you…"

"I know." She sighed softly as she nestled next to him on the sofa. "Parker is fine. He was worried about you, of course, but Rebecca has explained to him that you were delayed in your Ranger training. As far as I can tell, he doesn't know about your original mission or that you were ever considered to be missing. I did tell your Pops, however. He was very concerned...in fact, you probably need to call him as soon as possible…"

"I called him last night after I got settled in my room. He chewed my ass good for not telling him what was going on, too." Booth grinned as he pulled Brennan close. "He said I was a goddamn idiot for leaving you alone so I could take on some special ops mission, and I had to agree with him…anyway, I'm gonna go see him when I get back to the States. He made me promise to bring you, too, so I guess you'd better plan on a weekend in Philly in the near future."

"That will be enjoyable. I love visiting your grandfather. Right now, however, I want to talk about the immediate future. How much longer does your doctor want you to stay in the hospital?"

Booth shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but he was clearly disappointed. "I don't know...he wants another x-ray of my feet when the swelling is completely gone to make sure there was no additional damage done to them, so maybe two or three days at the most. I've got to talk to the Army's intelligence liaison officer, too, about the CIA's involvement with my mission in Pakistan." He grimaced slightly as he continued. "I'm not sure how much I can tell you about that trip until I get the all clear, okay?"

"I see." Wearing a sly smile, Brennan wrapped her arms tightly around Booth's waist. "So am I to understand that the doctor is concerned about your feet, but not much else? He thinks you're in relatively good health? Physically fit?" Seeing his confusion, she giggled. "In other words, are you fit enough for a conjugal visit from your girlfriend?"

A smile lit up Booth's face as he realized what she was talking about. "Well, I do have a single room, and the door locks, but the bed is kinda narrow…"

"That's okay...we don't need much space for what I have in mind. Actually, even a chair might do." Seeing Booth's amusement, she smiled. "You do remember that I've studied kinesiology extensively, right? That's how I can write those sexually stimulating scenes with Kathy and Andy making love in all those tight spaces…like closets or the backseat of a sports car." She licked her lips as her eyes roamed over his body. "Would you be interesting in trying something new? Maybe something I could include in my next book?"

Feeling his temperature rise, Booth groaned softly. "Wow...you mean…really? Wow...Hell, yeah!"

"Shall we?" She stood up from the sofa and reached for his hand. "Don't you want to show me where you've been staying, Booth?"

"Oh, yeah…let's go." Squeezing her hand, he carefully rose to his feet. "I love you, Bones…"

"I love you, too, Booth…"

Oooooooooo

Three weeks had passed since Answar Shalmani had been taken into custody by the US Army. He was being held at Camp Arifjan in Kuwait as the US government decided who was in the best position to deal with him. After much discussion between the Army and the CIA, it was decided that a joint venture might work best. It would be a sterling example of interagency cooperation as they got the information they needed.

To that end, CIA Agent Danny Beck and Army Intelligence Officer Captain Jane Glover awaited the prisoner in a small glass walled interrogation room. Having mapped out their strategy, they were fairly sure they could convince the man to give them the information they wanted, even if they did have to fudge the truth a little bit. As Captain Glover had pointed out, there was no way Answar would know the difference anyway. Danny had agreed to go along with the plan, even if it was a little shady, because he wanted to get to the bottom of John Green's doings.

After Shalmani was brought into the room, he sat defiantly in the chair across from his interrogators, drumming his fingers on the table. "I have nothing to say to you. I'm being detained illegally. I know my rights. I demand to see an attorney…"

Captain Glover shrugged as she opened a file on her tablet. "I'm not sure why you think you have any rights, but I'm okay with you not talking to me. Right now, I just want you to listen, okay?" She smirked as she read the information from her screen. "You see, I've been to see Sergeant Major Seeley Booth. Remember him? You were holding him for ransom…"

"That was a misunderstanding…", Shalmani stated nervously. "I never meant him any harm. I was trying to help him..."

"Gee, that's surprising to hear, since he told me you threatened to sell him to a mercenary group if the US didn't take you up on your offer for ransom. He also told me it was you who was responsible for taking down a US helicopter with a RPG. That crash killed two American servicemen. We're gonna get you for premeditated murder because of that incident...unless, of course, you can tell us who's really responsible." She arched an eyebrow as she continued. "Anyway, we've got some options for you, okay? Let's see which one you prefer. Agent Beck?"

Danny nodded as he fidgeted with a pencil. "Okay. Option 1 is you refuse to cooperate, and we send you back to your cousin in Pakistan."

Seeing Shalmani's confusion, Captain Glover laughed softly. "Before you consider that one, Answar, you might want to know that your cousin has told everyone in your clan that you willingly left with the Americans in order to give them intel on your family's businesses in the area in exchange for a lot of money...in other words, you've been branded as a traitor, and you might find yourself dead pretty quickly after you get home. Agent Beck? Option 2?"

"Option 2 is that you tell us everything we need to know and instead of sending you back to Pakistan or over to Gitmo, we get you a nice cell in Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary. You'd be in prison, but you'd still be alive." Glancing at the officer next to him, Danny shrugged. "See, here's the thing. I don't really give a fuck about what happens to your sorry ass. All I really want to know is what you can tell me about John Green. So now you have to decide if that mother fucker is worth dying for…"

Staring at the people across from him, Shalmani considered his choices carefully for a few minutes. Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Okay. I will tell you what I know about Green."

"Good." Danny opened a file folder and thumbed through the pages. "So you told Booth that Green asked you to take down that helicopter. Did Green say why?"

"He wanted Booth dead, because Booth knew about Green's dealings with a man named Thomas Grigsby." Shalmani traced imaginary circles on the table with his fingers. "Green also wanted Booth's woman, I think...a woman named Dr. Brennan. He wanted to take what Booth had, because he hates Booth. He convinced me that we could make a lot of money when the new arms dealers moved into the area to replace the old ones...and I was greedy, so I agreed to help him. Green approached one of my men about taking down the helicopter, and I ordered him to do it."

Somewhat surprised, Danny leaned forward in his chair. "Who are the new arms dealers? Where are they from?"

"China. The new dealers wanted to use the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor to smuggle in fake arms from China, but they had to eliminate the Pakistani competition first. The Chinese had offered Green a huge amount of money to clear the way...three million American dollars, I think, if he would make it easy for them to infiltrate the arms manufacturing business at Dara Adam Khel. Green told me he knew how to destabilize the area…"

"By taking out some of the leaders of one of the bigger families. Son of a bitch." Danny let out a low whistle as he turned to Glover. "So it was all on Green...the CIA wasn't involved in his plans at all. He was out to make a fast buck..."

Captain Glover folded her hands on the table and glared at the prisoner. "We know your family has had problems with Green in the past...that he was implicated in the death of your father. Why help him now? Why not just kill him when you had the chance?"

Sighing softly, Answar Shalmani wiped his eyes. "It was my hope to get my money from Green...the money he owed me for helping him...and then I planned to kill him, but he got away before I could get any money...he left me to suffer the consequences of my actions. I had nothing left..."

"And so when you found Sergeant Major Booth…", Glover began. "...you decided to use him…"

"Yes. When we learned that someone had survived the crash, I thought we could trade him for Green...but you don't know where Green is, either, do you?"

"No, we don't, but even if we did, we wouldn't trade one American for another." Danny was grim as he rose from the table. "But, trust me, when we find Green, he'll pay for what he's done. I've got what I need, Captain Glover."

"Yeah, me, too." She nodded for the guard to take Shalmani back to his cell. "I think you're gonna like Kansas, Answar."

As Danny stepped out of the room, he quickly made a call. "Alex? It's Beck. Hey, see if you can get in touch with the Chinese Embassy, okay? They might want to know about some crooked arms dealers working on the wrong side of the border…and we also need to track 3 million dollars some Chinese arms dealers gave Green. I'm gonna call in an accountant I know...someone who can find a fucking needle in a goddamn financial haystack..."

Oooooooooo

It was a chilly Sunday morning in February, and DC was covered with a fine dusting of snow. Shivering under his covers, Booth stretched a bit before turning over to put his arm around his girlfriend, but she wasn't laying next to him. Surprised, he sat up in bed and looked around his bedroom, smiling as he saw her lovely nude form step out of the bathroom. "You're up early…"

Smoothing her damp hair away from her face, she smiled at her boyfriend. "I'm sorry I woke you. I want to go to the lab for a few hours this morning to finish some work before my book tour." She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. "I'm glad you get to go with me on my trip…I wasn't anxious to leave you, but I've made a commitment to promote the book..."

"I'm glad I get to go, too. Director Crowley said I needed to use up some of my accrued vacation time, and a book tour sounded like just the thing to do that, especially since I'll be with you.." Booth reached up to rub Brennan's shoulder. "But you don't have to go to the lab right now, do you? We haven't had breakfast yet."

She arched a flirty eyebrow at him. "Really? What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, you know…" He began to nuzzle her neck. "A nibble here...a nibble there…"

"Booth…", she giggled. "Stop for a minute. I need to talk to you about something important.."

"Oh, alright, but make it quick...I'm hungry." He lay back on the pillows and grinned up at her. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, first…" She hesitated, not wanting to ruin the pleasant mood. "I went to see Hannah over Christmas, to tell her you were missing." Seeing the storm brewing in Booth's eyes, she quickly continued. "I also told her how upset I was at the way she had treated us. Anyway, she asked me to let her know what happened to you...she wanted to know if you were safe. Do you want me to contact her?"

"Nah...she lost that sort of privilege a long time ago. We don't need to tell her a damn thing." He pursed his lips, wondering what else was on Brennan's mind. "Is that it? That's all you want to tell me?"

"Um, no." She tried to keep her lips from twitching into a smile. "I was wondering...what would you think of turning my book tour into a honeymoon trip? We could get your friend Hank Luttrell to do a simple ceremony for us tomorrow in his chambers. I mean, I know it's not the religious ceremony you had in mind, but we would be legally married…"

"Yes!" Booth pumped his fist in the air. "Yes, of course! You just made my dreams come true, baby!"

"Do you mean it, Booth? Are you okay with…"

Brennan's question was interrupted when Booth pulled her over onto the bed. He laughed as he pounced on her, covering her all over with kisses. "Of course, I'm okay with it. I was going to ask you the same thing at dinner tonight! I love you, Bones…"

She giggled again as she kissed him. "I guess I may not make it to the lab today after all…"

Booth laughed as he ran his hands down her bare back. "Nope. You're gonna stay right here with me, and we're gonna make love all day long…"

"Won't you be too tired for the honeymoon if we do that, Booth?"

"No way, Bones...I'll just be getting warmed up…"

Oooooooooo

Ricardo Verde laughed to himself, enjoying the cool early evening as he stepped out of his beachfront house in the small village of Xcalak, which was situated on the white sand coast of Mexican Caribbean. "Yeah...John Green and Rick Carothers are both consigned in the past. I've got a new house...a new identity...and not a soul knows where I am. Life is perfect."

Pleased with himself, the CIA agent formerly known as John Green chuckled softly, talking to himself as he dug his toes into the warm sand. "Yep. The Chinese put all that money in my checking account for setting up that arms deal in Pakistan, and the Company can't do anything about it. I mean, sure a couple of people died, but that's just the price of doing business. Nobody can't touch me for that. As far as they know, I've dropped off the face of the earth. Nothing to do with my time now but fish and lay in the sun all day." He sipped his margarita as he watched some fishing boats sail by. "At least the Chinese are happy now...but that was my last job for them or for anyone else. I'm retired from that sort of work, and now I can enjoy the fruits of my labor."

He sat down in his beach chair, watching contentedly as the waves lapped the shoreline. It was almost sundown, and most of the village's fishing fleet was coming back to port after a long day at sea. "Poor suckers have to work for a living." He raised his glass towards the fleet in a mock toast. "Well, too bad for them…"

Pausing to watch the dolphins that played in the wake, Ricardo became curious about the small boat that was trailing the rest of the fleet. It had slowed down until it was just barely making way in the choppy sea. "That's odd. Wonder if he's out of gas…oh well...his problem, not mine." Closing his eyes, the former CIA agent leaned back in his chair, almost lulled to sleep as the sea breezes wafted over him.

Suddenly his heart leapt in panic as he heard the unmistakable whistle of a small rocket being launched from nearby. The shell flew over his head, impacting his house, which then exploded into flames. Jumping from his chair in horror, he turned to look out at the fishing boat once more, just in time to see a sudden flash against the dim twilight as a large round was discharged from a sniper rifle. With deadly accuracy, the bullet impacted John Green squarely in the middle of his chest, shredding his lungs and severing his spinal cord. There was nothing he could do but watch his ill gotten dreams burn to the ground as he slowly and painfully bled out. He struggled mightily against his paralysis as he tried to crawl away from the flames, gasping for air and calling out for help, but to no avail. Soon the beach's fine white sand was soaked with the blood of a dead man...a man no one would miss.

Standing on the deck of the lone fishing boat as it bobbed up and down in the waves, Danny Beck slowly lowered his rifle, satisfied that his work for the evening was complete. He held a hand out to the man next to him. "Thanks for being my spotter, Rami."

Nodding grimly as he watched the house burn on the shore, Rami shook Beck's hand. "After everything Booth did to save my life? After everything he did for my family? No problem, Danny. I'm glad I could help. C'mon, let's go into town. I'll buy you a beer."

"I'd like that." Danny smirked at the man next to him. "So...you're a genius with a calculator and a genius with a spotter's scope, huh? I'm glad you work for our side. The way you figured out where Green was hiding by tracing the Chinese deposits to the little bank here in town? Brilliant."

"Yeah, well...what can I say? I like to be on the winning team." Rami grinned as he packed his scope away. "Besides...working for the CIA is a lot of fun most of the time."

"I guess so. So do you think Booth ever figured it out? That you're a spy? I know Green didn't…but then again, he was too busy plotting against the Company to figure out what was really going on with you." Danny laughed quietly as he steered the boat toward the town's pier. "Are you gonna tell Booth?"

"Nah...I'll let him think I'm just a good ol' boy from Abilene, Texas. It's easier that way." Smiling sheepishly, Rami continued quietly. "Thanks for everything, Danny. I appreciate you letting me be a part of this whole operation...you know, Afghanistan, and now this..."

Agent Beck acknowledged his friend with a slight tip of his cap. "You got it, Rami."

Oooooooooo

Monday morning was cold and crisp, with a hint of frost in the air as Angela and Hodgins made their way up the courthouse steps. Pausing before the building's massive front door, the artist paused. "Cam said she'd meet us here, right? In Judge Luttrell's chambers? Did she say why?"

Hodgins shook his head. "Nope...just that Booth had called called her and said it was really important that we all meet here at eleven...I guess Caroline is coming, too, and so is Danny Beck."

"Wow...I hope it doesn't have anything to do with some big court case. Brennan's supposed to leave on her book tour Wednesday…" Angela grimaced anxiously. "She's had such a rough time, lately. She deserves some good luck…"

"She's had some good luck, Angie. Booth made it home in one piece." Hodgins smiled as he took his wife's hand. "C'mon...let's go find out what they want."

They made their way down the hall until they found the right place. After pushing the door open, Angela and Hodgins both laughed in surprise.

"Wait...just a minute. Brennan...Booth...are you getting married? Like right now?", Angela asked.

"Yes, and we need you and Hodgins to stand up for us as a witnesses." Brennan, looking radiant in a blue silk dress, handed Angela a pink rose. "Here's your bouquet… and hold Booth's ring, please."

"Congratulations, man." Hodgins grinned as he shook Booth's hand and then reached down to tousle Parker's hair. "You both look great!"

"Thanks, Hodgins." Turning to his friends, Booth cleared his throat, smoothing his tie a bit as he spoke. "Bones and I want to say thanks to all of you, okay? Thanks for everything you've done to support us through the rough times...thanks for being such great friends. Even though we kind of decided to get married on the spur of the moment, I can safely say I've been looking forward to this day for years." He smiled as he took Brennan's hand, and together they turned to face Booth's friend Hank. "Okay, Buddy...let's get this show on the road before she changes her mind."

The ceremony was brief, but heartfelt, as Brennan and Booth vowed to love and honor each other for the rest of their lives. Hank ad libbed slightly as he spoke to the couple. "I've known since I first saw you two together that you were meant for each other. Thanks for including me in your big day. I now pronounce you married to each other. You may kiss your bride, Booth…", Hank intoned. "...and you can kiss your husband, Dr. Brennan…"

"Finally!", Caroline shouted as she fanned herself with her hankie. "Hallelujah! I didn't ever think this day would get here. Okay, y'all. The wedding lunch is on me. Let's go. Founding Fathers, here we come."

Pausing as their friends left the judge's chambers, Booth bent down to give Brennan another kiss. "I'm so glad I stopped you in the park on that Saturday. Even with everything that's happened since then, it was the best decision of my life. I love you so much…"

Blinking back her happy tears, Brennan nodded as she caressed her husband's cheek. "I love you, too, Booth. I think I always have...and I know I always will."

* * *

 _ **A/N: thanks for reading. Your comments and reviews have been appreciated as I undertook this lengthy project. Laura.**_


End file.
